I didn't see it
by Semixtina
Summary: One day, popular Santana Lopez hears something that gets her attention. Or, more specifically, someone. Very intrigued, the girl gets sucked much deeper into Rachel Berry's world than she initially expected... WARNINGS: Self-harm and abuse.
1. I Just Discovered It

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee.**

**So, here's my first multichapter fic. I hope you like it... or at least don't rip your head off while reading it ;)**

**I'll take any suggestions...just please...review...or something lol**

* * *

As Santana neared her locker, she heard the characteristic sounds of splashing and laughter coming from the other end of the hallway, letting her know that another _loser_ had been slushied.

With a smirk adorning her sharp features, the Latina tilted her head to the left, searching with her gaze the unfortunate, probably, freshman freak.

Effectively, there, it stood the main aim of every jock and cheerio in McKinley High.

One Rachel Berry.

The girl was a freshman, her inexistent sense of fashion making her dive deep in slushy baths and taunts since her very first day at McKinley. Her two gay dads and incredible marks didn't help either, making her- to the rest of students, at least- an obnoxious know-it-all being whose only utility was being the main receiver of every frozen drink the popular kids decided to throw her way.

Santana couldn't help but feel slightly bad for the girl as she was slammed against a row of lockers by one of the huge hockey team members. The Head Cheerio observed the tiny brunette as she headed towards the nearest bathroom. Just when the girl arrived at the toilets, Santana felt a tug at her right arm, propelling her out of her thoughts by a cheerful looking Quinn Fabray.

"Ooh, Azimio and Stewart just made my day. I'm gonna have to make sure that I'm the one slushing the troll tomorrow, though. It's not fair that those two get all the fun."

"Of course not, Q" answered Santana, rolling her eyes and linking her pinky with Brittany's, leading them towards the first class of the day.

* * *

As their third period finished, meaning the beginning of lunch period, Santana was once again heading towards the cafeteria, while discussing with Brittany and Quinn why her name being Santana didn't really mean that she was Satan's daughter.

"But San, you're always being really mean with everyone but Q and me."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean that I'm Satan's daughter, Britts"

"Of course not. It just means that you're a repressed angel who was kidnapped by Coach Sylvester when you were in your demon's-I mean, mother's womb " laughed Quinn.

"Oh, now I get it, preggo, you're fucking hilarious"

"Then…" Brittany trailed off. Santana sighed softly. She seriously loved her friends, but since all the Baby Gate drama, the on-off relationship between Quinn and Finn, Brittany and her girlfriend from their rival Cheerio's High School team, Quinn, and by extension Santana, had been extremely tense. They had been trying to ease the tension by teasing each other at astronomic levels.

"Then, my mother's called Maribel Lopez, my father's called Armando Lopez- not Satan-, and Quinn' s a fucking jealous bitch"

While the two shorter cheerios laughed profusely at their special kind of PDA, the giddiest one stopped suddenly, forcing the other two to do the same.

"What's up, B?" asked Santana, looking at her wrist clock to gauge how much time they had left for lunch.

"Don't you hear that?" said Brittany, ignoring completely Santana's question "I hear someone singing"

"Come on Britts, tons of people sing at this time of the day. I bet it's just some Glee loser who doesn't want to eat at the cafeteria in fear of an Epic Slushy Bath" said Quinn, giggling a little at the end of her statement, making Santana roll her eyes, smirking a little. Even though she was hungry, she never let the opportunity to troll Quinn go to waste.

"Oh, I can hear it too B. Why don't we investigate it?" said the Latina in a giddy voice, sending a pointed mocking glare at Quinn. Just when she was going to turn around and confess the joke, she heard it. She should have been more shocked when Brittany and Quinn disappeared, or when her feet stayed anchored at the floor, or when she started feeling her head fill with a feminine voice that wasn't hers. At _all. _

"Fuck. I forgot that I had an appointment with Ms. Pillsbury at lunchtime" snapped Santana, startling her friends.

"What? What is the appointment about?" asked a surprised Quinn. It was no secret that Santana loathed every teacher at their school, from their moron Mr. Schuester to the adorable Mrs. Wilson. It was shocking that she had even considered having to spend some alone time with their lemur teacher.

"Pss, about some anger management shit" said the cheerio, resting it importance with a movement of her hand and a shake of her head. "See ya later, bitches" dismissed them the tanner girl, heading towards Ms. Pillsbury's office. She couldn't help but laugh in her head when she heard Brittany asking her blonde friend if they could adopt whoever was singing in the auditorium and call them 'Voldeduck'. The Latina continued walking till she turned a corner, and waited for her friends to get completely out of her sight and into the cafeteria. When she was sure that no one else was in the hallway, the girl straightened herself and headed towards the big black doors of the auditorium, which were closed, with the hope that they were unlocked, and she would be able to see the mysterious person behind the powerful, and definitely _feminine_ voice.

Once she arrived at the doors, the tan girl took the doorknob, looking nervously from side to side, making sure that no one was spying her o passing accidentally by. As she silently and cautiously opened the door, a new wave of sound flooded her ears. Without restriction of any kind, the music entered effortlessly her ears, filling her head with the most wonderful sound she had ever heard. Slowly, the girl approached the stage, the darkness covering her body, the only illumination in the big room a spotlight pointed to a tiny being filling the whole stage with their presence. _Her_ presence.

Soon, Santana was standing in the space between seats at the first row of seats, her eyes never leaving the source of the wonderful sound.

There, belting out what Santana labeled as a very personalized cover of 'Beautiful', stood none other than Rachel Berry._ The_ Rachel Berry.

The way Rachel was barely moving on the stage but still she managed to fill it, made Santana smile like an idiot. Truly, she had never seen something so… real and emotive. There she was, Rachel Berry, this little being who had been in their school barely two months and had been teased since her very first day, expressing how she truly felt. Or _wanted _to feel. Because she didn't seem to be happy. At all.

For a moment, Santana thought that the singer had looked her way, but soon got rid of that idea, it having being almost _impossible_.

The flabbergasted cheerleader had swiftly recognized the song, and knew that that one wasn't the one she had heard in the hallway just a few minutes prior. But that didn't matter anymore when Rachel belted out the highest note in the song, leaving her open- mouthed. Because, how could such a _big_ voice come out from such a tiny body? As the song got to an end, the Latina found herself smiling like a fool, with her eyes shimmering- damn allergies, no doubt about it- , and an unbearable desire to gather the little girl in her arms and hold her. Hold her forever, caressing her undoubtedly soft skin.

However, the cheerio was brought back to reality when her mind processed the tears that were falling from the Jewish girl's eyes, and the soft sobs the small girl was uttering. Not knowing what to do, her first instinct was to run away. Join Quinn and Brittany in the cafeteria, leaving the unpopular girl there, alone in the auditorium's stage to fend on her own. Because, who was that girl to Santana? They weren't friends. Damn, they weren't even _acquaintances_. Santana was Rachel's tormentor. That is how it was supposed to be. They were _supposed_ to stay in character. Even if they had to _pretend_. And as Santana saw Rachel falling to the ground a sobbing mess, that is what she decided to do. _Pretend. _Silently, she left the auditorium and a broken Rachel Berry behind.


	2. Would You Have Asked?

It had been one entire week since Santana had found Rachel in the auditorium, and she had a problem. Because that is what she had been taught during her whole life. When you are obsessed over someone, you have a big, epic problem, don't you? That is what she was thinking when she entered the girl's changing room after one of Coach Sylvester's massacres. Now, there were two less cheerios in the squad, and Santana feared that she might be next, judging by the insults that Coach had thrown her way during training. She knew what was to blame - or better, _who_ - for her absent- mindedness, but that didn't make it scare her any less.

Furthermore, Santana felt like pure, utter shit. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about Rachel during a whole week, and her fresher memory of the girl was how she left her being a crying mess in the auditorium's stage, merely a week ago. But she was _scared. _How could she be not? Just because you have heard someone sing like you have never heard anyone sing before it isn't normal to feel an unstoppable craving to be with them.

One day, you find someone whose life, maybe, isn't as perfect as yours by any means, and suddenly you find yourself thinking about that person at all hours, and with everything you do, you can't help but feel even worse than you did.

With those thoughts in mind, the Latina left the changing room- the last to do so, since she had to make sure that any of the cheerios left their lockers open or any dirt near them- and started heading towards her car.

As she arrived to her car, she got her mind out of the girl she had been thinking about non-stop to concentrate on the sound of the _real_ Rachel Berry, who was currently shouting her name and running after her, securing her headband with her hand on her head, while she carried her bag with the other.

"Santana! Wait! Please". The tiny girl yelled, coming to a stop at barely four feet away from Santana. "I… I saw you. In the auditorium, you know" continued, at the look of confusion on the other girl's face. As understanding crossed the Latina's face, a slow smile began to form at the other girl's.

"I just wanted to say that… thank you". Once again, Santana was confused. Thank you for what?

"Thank you for what?"

"For… you know, for not making fun of me on my state of distress. That was lovely of you" complimented Rachel, her voice lowering at the end and looking shyly at the ground. Really, only Rachel freaking Berry would thank someone for not making fun of her. But then again, Santana was sure that that wasn't a common thing in the girl's life.

Santana rolled her eyes, letting a puff of air exit her lips, as if she weren't interested in the least. As if she hadn't been dreaming of touching the tan skin of the smaller girl's face. As if she hadn't been dying to hear once more the wonderful voice she had been thinking non-stop about.

"Whatever. I wasn't hungry and had nothing better to do. So" the Latina said, waving her hand to rest importance to the fact that the most popular girl at school had been present in one of the Glee loser's impromptu presentation. And she had loved it.

"Well. It was considered- " "Anything else?" interrupted Santana, inspecting her black polished nails. The smaller girl tilted her head up just a moment, tilting it back down almost instantly, as if fearing the Latina.

_Well. She probably does._

"If that's all, I have a _life_" pressured Santana in a clipped tone, trying to get away from the girl as fast as she could. Rachel just nodded her head swiftly, without rising her eyes. The Latina rolled slightly her eyes, took her car keys out of her bag's pocket, and unlocked the car, ignoring the other girl, who hadn't moved nor had made any attempt to do so. The taller girl got in her car, put her bag on the passenger's seat, and pulled out of the parking lot. Trying to convince herself that she just wanted to see if the girl had been humiliated in any way since she had gotten in the car, Santana turned her head towards the girl, just in time to see the little girl wiping at her cheeks, probably some errant tear, while walking away.

When Santana arrived home, she was met with her older brother, Fernando, stretching .

"You goin' running today?" asked Santana absent-mindedly, going up the stairs. "Yeah" shouted Fernando, before exiting the house.

The Latina knew what that meant. He was probably going to run about 8 miles, after it he would go to his favorite coffee shop, and he would end up crashing in some friend's house for the night, playing Halo, WOW, or some other videogames. Santana pulled her Ipod out of her bag, plugged it in the dock and played her bad mood's playlist. After the little encounter with Rachel, the tan girl felt like utter shit. She didn't feel like doing anything except crash on her bed and cry herself to sleep. Well, that and run to Rachel's house , look for the girl and hold her tiny frame in her arms, rocking her softly until she could feel her breathing even out and her heart slow down. But fuck, why the hell was she thinking that? If Quinn knew about her thoughts, she would kick her ass. _Well, she definitely would try,_ smirked the cheerio, _but she wouldn't be able to_.

Like this, tossing and turning in her bed, letting a tear escape her eyes from time to time, the raven haired girl fell asleep.

The next day, it wasn't any better for Santana. She hated the feeling of guilt she experienced when she saw a Rachel Berry running towards the closest bathrooms, dripping blue and red slushy all over the hallway's floor. She berated herself when she felt an almost unstoppable craving to enter that bathroom, but once again, she was dragged out of her thoughts by Quinn.

"So you like someone. Well, who is it?" asked the blonde in an impatient tone. The tanner girl hadn't even realized that the blonde had been talking with Brittany, let alone that they were talking about _that._

"What the fuck you talking 'bout, Lucy?" answered the Latina, angrily slamming her locker, making the freshmen around her run everywhere away from the hot headed girl. "Don't start fuckin' with my head just yet. It's too early in the fucking morning".

"Whoa, whoa. Easy there, kitty. I didn't realize you had taken your bitch-pills this morning" said Quinn, rising her hands in mock surrender, laughing softly. While the two shorter cheerios bickered with each other, Brittany was left staring right at the bathroom door, which had just been trespassed by one distraught little girl.

"Hey Q, do you know how old is Rachel?" asked a pensive Brittany.

"Who?" "Rachel. Rachel Berry. The littlest girl on Earth "

"Oh! So you mean Man-Hands? I don't know, and sincerely, I don't care" answered Quinn, attracting Santana's attention, the three cheerios walking to their first class. "The only thing I know is that she's a freshman, and Finn's drooling over that fucking hobbit" continued Quinn, getting angrier with every moment that passed.

"Well Q, I bet if you put out some, he wouldn't be getting all bothered and hot over baby hobbits" added Santana, hating how the words flowed so easily out of her mouth.

Before Quinn could even answer, Brittany set herself in front of her two friends, and took Santana by her shoulders. "I think she's broken" said the tallest girl, looking right into the Latina's eyes. A tense silence situated itself over the three teenagers.

"And why are you telling me this?" asked the girl, looking nervously at Quinn, hoping that she hadn't noticed the delicate blush that had started adorning her sharp cheeks at the thought of Brittany knowing about her little…_problem _with Rachel Berry.

"Oh, I don't know" suddenly blurted out the chirpy girl ", I hoped you did".


	3. I Can Care

Two weeks had passed since the parking scene, and Santana decided that it was moment to do something about her new- (not so new)found obsession with the tiny girl. Honestly, she feared the outcome of her actions. She didn't even know what those unknown feelings meant. How could someone develop actual _feelings_ over someone they didn't know? Well, yeah, they had talked once, but Santana had practically humiliated her once more in the privacy of their conversation.

Suddenly, Santana didn't feel her age. At all. She was developing a crush on a freshman. She. A senior. The HBIC. She had a crush on fifteen year old loser. Life couldn't get any _better_. Like, fucking great.

This time around, Santana was the one who decided to approach the other girl. It's not that she wanted to talk with the tiny girl _that _much, it was just that…_hold on a fucking minute, Santana Lopez doesn't explain anything to anyone, damnit. _

So, at the end of another exhausting day of doing nothing but think and talk through notes in class, Santana had a scheme prepared in her ruthless mind.

* * *

The Latina had already left Quinn and Brittany, who had an "appointment" (it meaning that Quinn was going to try and talk Brittany into leaving her girlfriend, disguised as if they were going to the duck pond), and she was ready to get near Rachel. At last.

The cheerio wasn't sure of the time the Diva usually left at, so she decided to risk any suspicions and stay by her locker, because, who would she be if she didn't risk something? Finally, the tan girl saw her objective walking slowly to her locker, tilting her head down because of some of the sneers and insults that were thrown her way. Her horrible clothing stained, once more, by the unmistakable rest of some slushy. Santana couldn't help but feel a desire to maim whoever had slushied _my Rach- I mean, Rachel_. The halls were getting empty, and Santana was getting tired of pretending to be filing her nails while she secretly stared at the small girl. When, - _finally_ - the smaller girl closed her locker and headed towards the parking lot, the Latina let out a sigh of relief and closed her own locker, following the little singer absent-mindedly. When Santana crossed the large doors that led to the parking, her throat dried as she saw a little group of baby Cheerios approach Rachel. The tan girl turned swiftly, hiding behind the giant brick wall by the main doors. At that distance, she heard the exchange of words between the Cheerios and the tiny girl.

"So, RuPaul, I guess you know why we're here" said a cheerio smiling sweetly down at Rachel. The girl stayed quiet, her eyes not leaving the pavement below their feet. Another cheerio, a small blonde with dark eyes reached out with a hand, grabbing Rachel by the stained collar of her sweater, making her look up in shock.

"You look up when you're being talked to, dumb bitch" spitted out the blonde, swaying the Jewish girl back and fort a little. At this, Rachel shook her head, a look of fear starting to take over her features.

"Well, it seems like Fabray wants you out of the League, hobbit," laughed the first girl "and we are going to make her desires come true."

During that, Santana had stayed hidden. She had wanted to crush the cheerios into a giant freaking pulp, but, honestly, that would have damaged her reputation to no end. The leader of the Cheerios and basically of the student body stepping up for the school's loser. Duh, not happening.

Suddenly, Santana was dragged out of her thoughts by the sound of an open hand collapsing against skin. The Latina peeked out of her refuge, frowning and having to sink her nails into her own skin when she saw Rachel holding a hand over her right cheek. The brown haired girl raised her head quickly, looking for some kind of escape between the four Cheerios who surrounded her. Seeing a possible way out of the circle, the girl pushed with her shoulder against the blonde's, trying to run away from them.

But she hadn't counted with the Cheerio's training they were submitted to, being chased down and reached almost immediately. This time, Rachel had almost no time to turn completely around to defend herself when another hand collapsed with her left cheek, making her yelp in pain and lose her balance. Just before she could fall to the ground, the blonde and another Cheerio held her by her arms from behind, locking them between them. The leader, not even out of breath, set herself in front of the defenseless girl, smirking evilly as she looked at the girl, her eyes roaming her entire length.

"You're not so _active _now, are you, dwarf?" Just when she was about to slam her fist against the short girl, a yell made her turn around in fear.

"SUMMERS! What the fuck you think you're doing?" shouted Santana, power walking towards them, her face beat red, and her fists tightly closed and trembling in rage, her eyes spitting fire. It was a sight truly terrifying.

"We're just following orders" spoke up the girl, her voice unusually powerless.

"How hitting a fifteen year old girl is gonna make you accomplish any fucking order, Summers?" shouted the Latina, each time getting closer and closer to the other girl, the other subtly stepping backwards.

"It…it was Captain Fab-"

Santana managed to muster enough self control to just take the Cheerio by the collar of her cardigan, smirking when she felt a barely there tremble on the girl's bottom lip, and not bust her head into the hood of the nearest car.

"She fucking told you to keep her" the girl nodded her head in Rachel's direction, now freed by her captors "away from Finncompetence, not to break her damn face!" the girl bellowed, pushing the Cheerio away from her which caused the girl to stumble backwards, until she finally could straighten up. The smirk on Santana's face got wider when she saw the way that the other girl was positioning her head, so that she wouldn't accidentally make eye contact with the HBIC.

The four Cheerios had regrouped with their tails between their legs, all of them looking sheepishly to the ground, a startling contrast from just a few minutes ago. The Latina pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing heavily.

"Go! Now!" ordered finally the girl, pointing towards the exit of the parking lot without taking her eyes off the pavement. The girls scurried out in fear, each one running to their own cars, and speeding out of the campus.

Santana nor Rachel had moved from their previous positions until the last car got out of the parking lot. Swiftly, the Latina stepped forward and took Rachel into her arms, the smaller girl instantly breaking down in sobs. The cheerleader held her tightly against her chest, one arm around Rachel's waist, the other one around her neck, her fingers immersed in brown locks. The taller girl started leading them towards her car, making them trip a couple times due to their grip. Once they arrived to the girl's Mustang, Santana looked around over Rachel's head.

"Rachel, there's no one. You're safe, I promise" whispered the Latina, lowering her head to speak in the Jewish girl's ear, making her shiver at the feeling.

The smaller just gripped the Cheerio's top tighter, burying her face in the girl's neck. Santana moved her head slightly, so that her cheek rested at the top of Rachel's head, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The raven haired girl moved the arm resting on the little girl's waist and started caressing her back up and down comfortingly, rocking them from side to side lightly. If she had been anyone else looking at them, she would have probably laughed her ass off and thrown something at them. But, _too fucking bad, _she wasn't anyone else, nor she gave a fuck about what others coul think of her in that magical moment. So, yeah. Whatever.

Five minutes later, when the girl's sobs had subdued to almost a nonexistent trembling, Santana moved the hand swimming in brown locks to the girl's right cheek, moving her hair away to reveal closed eyes and a face marked by tear tracks. The Latina swiped her thumb across Rachel's cheekbone, making her open her eyes.

"What do you say to me taking you to your house? My car is right here" said the Latina, nodding her head towards her Mustang. Rachel moved her head again, so that her face was shielded from sight by her hair.

"I… My dads aren't home right now. I usually go to a park near my house until they return" whispered the smaller girl, her voice muffled by the Cheerio's shoulder.

"Well. Why don't we… go to my house until your dads return? Then I can take you home" offered Santana, fighting off a smile as she saw a light blush creep up the Jewish girl's sharp right cheek. At this, the brown haired girl started shaking her head vigorously, lifting her head from Santana's shoulder, finally letting her bruised left cheek make an appearance.

"Oh fuck. They hit you well, didn't they?" said the Latina, her voice laced with worry as she took Rachel's chin between her index finger and her thumb, while she used the other to move her hair away from her face, inspecting the damaged area. "I'm gonna fucking whip their asses next practice. Oh, they aren't gonna be able to difference their elbows from their asses when I'm finished with them." spitted the Cheerio dangerously, shaking her head lightly to emphasize her point.

"C'mon, it's getting late and we don't want to catch a cold, now, do we?" smiled Santana.

"No" answered the smaller girl. Santana's smile widened, until she heard the whole sentence. "I can not go with you. I'm sorry."

The Latina frowned, not liking where the conversation was heading. "What do you mean you can't come? My car's right here." At the shake of head the girl gave, followed by a little shrug, Santana raised her hands in exasperation, rolling her eyes."I won't fucking kill you or anything" continued the Latina, her walls slowly building back up at the sour feeling of rejection.

"I…I know Santana, and I am very grateful for your generous offer, but I'm afraid that I have other plans."

Yeah, right.

"Yeah, right. Like you didn't just tell me that you go to a fucking park after classes."

Rachel closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and wincing when she felt the sore skin of her stomach stretching.

Santana, fighting the urge to reach out and hold Rachel – _at arm distance, thank you - , _rolled her eyes and hardened her features again, making Rachel look away.

"Whatever. You know what? I don't even know why I fucking bother"

The smaller girl quickly lifted her head, noting the bite in the girl's voice. Carefully, she placed a hand on the other girl's arm.

"Wait, that's not what-"

"Of course it is!" The Cheerios shouted, removing Rachel's hand from her arm and positioning her head just a few inches away from Rachel's as a way of intimidation. It worked, Santana noticed, when Rachel flinched and backed away.

Suddenly, Santana couldn't move. She was looking into Rachel's eyes, and she was seeing so much…so much. The pain in the tiny girl's eyes was evident, as well as the fear and shock. The Cheerio felt her insides knot up at the feelings she was discovering. When the older girl frowned, Rachel moved her gaze away, suddenly afraid of having shown too much.

When she looked at the taller girl again, her questioning gaze made her panic instantly, because, out of everyone,_ why would she care? What if she _knew_? _She would be damned if Santana Lopez, _the_ Santana Lopez were the first one to know her. To really know her.

For her part, Santana, while watching in amazement and confusion the inner struggle that the girl in front of her was having, was facing one of her own.

Suddenly she didn't want to know more about the girl. She wanted to know _everything_. After three weeks of obsessing over the girl, of thinking about a million and one things she could do or say to approach her, to get closer to her, Santana thought that she could predict anything. How Rachel would react. How she would react. What they could say.

But she didn't expect being in this position. Staring right into Rachel's eyes, both of them alone in the school parking lot, the other girl showing so much, and at the same time so little.

Maybe Santana was so busy looking into the tiny girl's eyes that she didn't notice the change of demeanor said girl presented, or maybe there hadn't been a signal at all, because in the next second, Rachel was running away one hand wiping at her cheeks furiously; the other grabbing her bag.

Santana just watched her leave, thinking that, _for once, she's the one running away._


	4. This doesn't help

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee**

**So, I have to explain something before the fun begins xD**

**In a review, someone asked me why chapter number two ended like it did (with a very cryptic Brittanysm), and if I had made a mistake posting. Actually, no, I didn't make a mistake with that. I wanted it to end like that, but I guess that I have to improve my writing so that I can express myself better next time. I should have posted this the last chapter, but I forgot. Oops, sorry for the confusion, I have to change little things like these :) **

**Aaaand another thing. I am updating things with as much frequency as I can because in September I start my High school's junior year, and my parents wouldn't be too thrilled if I dedicated most of my time writing and posting when classes begin lol. So I'm taking advantage of my holidays. **

**And just so you know, the more reviews I receive, the faster I'll post ;)**

* * *

Santana didn't know what to think. Two days ago, the Latina had had an incredibly revealing encounter with Rachel. Well, revealing wasn't the exact word she'd use. Maybe _confusing. Yeah, that's right. Confusing's the word. _

After their conversation at the parking lot, Santana had felt extremely curious about Rachel and her eyes.

Well, not her _eyes, duh. _But the feelings it showed. It was as if the girl had been trying to tell her something, to make her understand without actually saying anything. As if she was afraid of the actual possibility of Santana knowing something that, maybe, she wasn't supposed to know, but at the same time, not bearing to not let the Cheerio glimpse _something._

And yeah, Santana knew that she was just probably seeing too much into the whole situation, because, _c'mon, the girl's 15, not freaking 50. _

And even though that's what Santana had been repeating to herself over and over again, she knew that it was a lost battle. It was like telling a child to choose between a chocolate bar and a head of lettuce, but only offering him the chocolate. She knew that she should just let it be. If Rachel wanted something, she would definitely not want it coming from one of the girls that made her high school life a living hell. She shouldn't even bother.

But the pain in that disgusting throbbing thing that was behind her left tit made her think otherwise.

* * *

After having spent her Sunday morning whining and complaining over the midget on her own, she decided that it was enough.

She would go whine and complain somewhere else. Concretely at Puck's.

After taking a shower, the thin girl sent Puck a text, letting him know that she was going to be coming over.

_Fuckerman, b ther in 10_

She didn't even have time to leave the room before a '_Whatvs, jst brin smthg_' made an appearance at her phone screen.

Fifteen minutes later, Santana arrived at the Puckerman household's street, stationing her car in front of an old house whose parking spot was never occupied, her high heeled boots' clicking the only sound heard.

When Santana reached Puck's door, the plastic bag with the alcohol was hurting her fingers, so the raven haired girl changed the bag of hands and pressed her index finger against her friend's doorbell.

Nothing.

Frowning, pressed it again.

And again, nothing.

Getting impatient, the Latina slapped her whole hand against the tiny button, the ring resonating from inside the house and filling the air with it's annoying screeching.

Finally, the door opened to a flustered looking Noah Puckerman.

"What the fuck's wrong with you" said the boy matter of factly while zipping his pants back up.

"Were you doing the nasty with Zizes?" asked the other girl making a disgusted face, completely ignoring the boy's question and pushing her way through the door.

"I wish" murmured the boy, earning a slap at the back of the head by Lauren, who had just exited the bathroom.

* * *

After approximately two hours of doing nothing except chug beer after beer and talking shit, Santana was buzzed enough to have the courage to ask for advice.

"Tell the Puckasaurus babe, I'll resolve all of your problems."

Well, as much advice as Zizes and Puck could give her, anyway.

"I mean, I don'ts have a problem, you know" murmured Santana, her face sporting a definitely non-badass annoyed pout.

At Puck's pointed look reminding her that _babe, I've known you since we were in diapers, don't pull that shit with me, _Santana turned her head to gaze at an amused Zizes, who was too drunk and busy by making Puck's cushions fight to pay attention. Sighing, the girl could practically feel the alcohol that had been clouding her mind dissipating.

"If one word of this conversation gets out from here, I swear Puckerman that the only dick you'll be able to touch will be Kurt's. Do I's makes myself clear?" threatened the girl, pointing her finger to Puck's face, making him cross his eyes to prevent that one single finger from killing him.

"C'mon babe, you know me. My lips are sealed." The guy made as if he was zipping his mouth, then locked it and opened his mouth to drop the invisible key in it. After a few seconds, Santana smirked when Puck frowned and murmured "Oh, shit", before looking serious once again.

"Well, there's this girl-" "I knew it!" Interrupted the guy, lifting his fist in victory.

"Do you want me to bust your face against this fucking table!" scowled the Latina, pointing to the small glass coffee table in front of them. The guy made an 'innocent' signal with his arms, so the girl rolled her eyes and continued.

"Her name's Rachel." At the obvious attempt the guy had made to interrupt her, Santana raised her eyebrow, effectively shutting him up once again.

"She's…fuck, that doesn't matter. The case is" the girl took a deep breath, "I've been thinking non-stop about her for the last three fucking weeks, and it's driving me nuts" finished the Lopez girl, obviously uncomfortable with the glimpse of feelings she had shown Puck.

"She hot?" asked the boy while taking another beer and unscrewing it.

Santana rolled her eyes. "I guess" was the murmured answer.

"Then go for it" stated the guy before sipping his beer. As if it were the easiest fucking thing in the world.

Santana just covered her face with her hands and let out a feral growl, making Zizes look everywhere for the origin of the sound and Puck chuckle.

_Lopez, you fucking knew what kind of advice to expect from Puckerman._

* * *

Santana fucking hated Mondays. They made her head hurt with the prospect of one whole week of Cheerio practices and classes. The hangovers form the weekend didn't help either with her headache. At all.

When she opened her locker before first period began, a hand slammed it shut before she could even put her hand in it. Turning slowly to her right to see whose fucking face she had to beat up today, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of one Quinn Fabray trying to assassin her with her eyes.

"What the fuck's wro-" "Why did you fucking do it!" bellowed the blonde girl before Santana could finish her statement. At the look of irritation and confusion on the tan girl's face, Quinn slammed her open palm against the locker right next to Santana's, the sound and the prospect of an epic fight attracting students like moths to a flame.

Santana's brain was at the verge of melting. What on Earth could Quinn be referring to? Whatever it was, she was going to make the blonde pay later. No one fucked with Santana Lopez. No pun intended.

"On Friday, when I sent a group of Cheerios to solve one of my_ problems, _you" the girl emphasized the 'you' by sinking her index finger into the girl's chest "got in their way. Does it ring a bell?"

At this, Santana's brain light bulb went off, overheating tremendously when the other Cheerio continued talking. If Quinn just knew how much that '_problem_' meant to Santana, she probably wouldn't have tried to solve it that way. Because, even when they knew that their friendship wasn't the ideal one - by any means - , they cared for each other immensely.

"Well _Tubbers_, you see" challenged the Latina, never one to back off from an argument, "I didn't see any of the Cheerios following orders. I just saw four Sophomore girls about to beat up a defenseless Freshman girl for no evident reason."

Both girls were glaring at each other, completely oblivious of the group of greedy students that surrounded them, some of them recording the exchange of words - and luckily something more - , in case something interesting happened. Finally, it was Quinn the first one to move her gaze away from Santana's, looking her up and down with a scheming look in her eyes, before strutting down the hallway, the students parting like the Red sea to allow her to pass between them.

_Oh, fuck. That's no good, man._


	5. Tell Me If You Hurt

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee.**

**If you have any suggestions, yo can either review or PM me, I'll put all of them into consideration :)**

* * *

It was Wednesday, and Santana was already exhausted.

Rachel hadn't come to class since last Friday, and even though the Cheerio didn't want to admit it, she was worried. No, scratch that. She was beside herself with worry. Last practice, while one of the fliers did a stunt that Santana was supposed to receive; the tan girl got distracted by the sight of a tiny brunette standing by the cheerleading field, looking at them.

Unfortunately, that simple glance was enough to have her arms extended one second later than it should, the flier slipping from her hands and falling to the ground with a thump.

One less Cheerio. Sue almost killed her.

And, to top it all, her co-captain, miss freaking I'm-better-than-you Fabray had kept trying to turn her every movement into a mistake, infuriating Sue and the Latina herself.

_Great_, thought the slim girl, _now Quinn and Coach Sylvester are against me. Why don't I just jump from a fucking precipice?_

And, when finally Coach had finished shooting her with a new brand bucket of insults, Santana decided to go where the tiny brunette was standing during practice, in hopes of finding her. _And 'her' being Rachel._

But when she arrived, the only thing visible there was dirt scattered all around the ground. The Latina frowned; her lips squished tightly one against the other, trying not to let the disappointment get to her. _Too late._

* * *

Santana was the last one to leave the change room. She had to supervise and all that shit. The girl had just put her blue tank top on, starting to dry-towel her hair when movement by the door of the room caught her eye.

Thinking it was some Cheerio who had probably forgotten something, the girl let it be, turning her face once again to her locker. But then again, the same interruption. Rolling her eyes, the girl straightened herself and threw the towel to the side, letting it hang from the open door of her locker.

"Do whatever you want to do already" said the annoyed girl loud enough for the Cheerio to hear, looking at the doors and frustrated by the evident lack of intelligence of some girls of the squad.

Raising her arms and rolling her eyes in desperation, Santana stomped towards the doors, opening them with a loud screeching sound.

The only thing she was able to see was a little figure running down the empty hall. The same petite brunette figure that was before at the cheerleading field was nearing the big exit doors with every little step it took.

"Shit, Rachel" murmured the Cheerio, running with all her might towards the retreating girl.

Just when Rachel was almost reaching the doors, two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, spinning her so that the other body would take the whole impact against the arch of the door in their back.

Rachel heard a 'uumph', before she and Santana started sliding down to the floor, her little body cradled between the cheerleader's legs and arms.

"Oh God" whispered Rachel, turning her body so that she was kneeling facing the Latina, whose arms were still wrapped tightly around her waist.

The girl was looking right at Santana, her arms cradling her jaw, then her shoulders, and then her jaw once again, trembling with concern and nervousness, looking for any trace of pain in the Latina's face.

But pain wasn't what she found reflected on her face.

"What happened?" whispered the taller girl, frowning and rising one arm to pull the hair out of the younger girl's face, to uncover the purplish mark that rested on the girl's right cheek and that disappeared into her hairline. Her eyes widened when she recognized a cut on the girl's lip, masterly covered with lip gloss.

As realization hit the smaller girl, fear taking over her features, Santana's expression grew concerned, her arms surrounding her once again, pressing their midsections tightly together. Moving her head so that their foreheads were pressed together, the girl let their hair mix, shielding them from the outside world.

"Rach" whispered the older girl, the air leaving her mouth filling the space with a soft mint scent. "Can you tell me" the girl closed her eyes in reaction to the breaking of her voice "what happened?"

Rachel bit her lip, carefully avoiding the cut, and shook her head, making their noses touch.

Santana pushed her nose against Rachel's, making the other girl crack a little shy smile.

"C'mon sweetie, please. Jus'…I promise I won't tell anyone" cooed the Latina, so out of character that she would have laughed, had not been the situation so serious. She knew that her words sounded childish and stupid, but the girl couldn't bring herself to care enough to change them.

Rachel opened her eyes again, separating their heads so that she could look at the Latina properly in the eyes. The girl moved her hands, which had been resting on Santana's shoulders, so that they were cradling her jaw, her fingers deepening into the wet hair of the older girl.

"I can't." Was the whispered answer. But Rachel's eyes were saying otherwise. Santana felt like they had life of their own, like they wanted the Latina to know about whatever it was that was bothering the brunette.

The petite girl's gaze was so intense and at the same time so weak, that it scared Santana. She could feel a story writing itself inside those pupils, dying be shown to Santana. Those eyes looked for her, but it seemed that at the same time, when they expressed more than necessary, they retreated to their shell once again, until they had their walls up high again. Hoping that Santana would break them down without pain, without getting hurt in the process, just so they could build themselves up once again, the concrete becoming weaker each time.

And, honestly, when Rachel's eyes started to fill with tears, Santana didn't know what to do, or what to say. Or what to see.

"Would you tell me if something bad happened to you?" whispered Santana, her hand clutching the hair at the back of Rachel's neck.

Rachel looked down, letting her tears fall, and shrugged lightly. When she lifted them again, the girl looked for Santana's gaze, loving the way they seemed to express their care for her. "No" whispered finally the girl, making Santana grip her tighter, her teeth gritting as her own tears fell from her eyes.

"Wrong answer" choked out the Cheerio, trying to look into the other girl's eyes through her tears while she moved Rachel's head towards hers, joining their lips, already moistened by their tears. Santana felt Rachel tremble against her lips, so she moved the arm that was around the tiny brunette and pressed her forearm against the girl's spine, her hand splayed against her shoulder blades, pushing her against her.

At the same time, Rachel had started moving her fingers against the other girl's scalp; the tenderness of the movement a startling contrast to the roughness of the kiss.

Santana was moving her lips against Rachel's, their ragged breaths the only thing heard in the deserted school. The older girl closed her teeth against the flesh of Rachel's bottom lip, ending the kiss. The girl didn't let go of Rachel's lip until the brunette moved her caresses to the other girl's cheeks, her fingers moving irregularly due to the moistness present on her face.

Santana pressed several pecks to the younger girl's lips, moving them up her cheek until she reached her temple, repositioning Rachel so that she was now sitting on the taller girl's lap, her face buried in the raven haired girl's neck, her arms poised between them, and Santana rocking them back and forth, while hugging the sobbing girl fiercely against her, as if wanting to make up for all the other times when she had run away, leaving the little girl in her arms crying.

This time, the only thing she wanted to do was hold her forever. _Or for as long as possible._


	6. Don't Keep Trying

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee**

**Well, here's another chapter. It may clear or blur the way, depends on how you interpret it :/ lol.**

**You know, for any kind of suggestion, as little as they may be, please, review. Even if is just to say hello. Which would be strange. But whatever. 'I'm like Tinkerbell folks. I need reviews. To LIVVVE.'**

* * *

After what could be considered like an hour, Santana felt her back numbing from the position it had taken against the doorframe of the main entrance of McKinley High. Rachel had stopped crying a long ago, her eyes having closed to enjoy the sensation of Santana nuzzling her scalp and the feeling of the Latina's hands running up and down her spine.

"Rach?" whispered the older girl, breaking the comfortable silence they had been submerged into for an hour.

The only sign of acknowledgement given by the tiny girl was a throaty 'mmm', her vocal chords too sore due to the sobbing to actually bother enough to form a proper word.

Santana smiled, lifting the arm that had gone limp on the girl's thighs and moving it to pull the air out of her face, revealing once again the bruise on her cheek and her busted lip, which instantly made her frown.

"Do you wanna talk?" asked Santana, her fingers tracing the edges of skin where the purple color began. At the jerky shake of head she received, the Senior just sighed, not wanting to pressure the little girl, even though she knew she had to help her.

"You know," continued the taller girl, "Sooner or later you'll ha-" "Can we not talk about this anymore, please?" pleaded Rachel in a broken voice that almost brought tears to Santana's eyes. Sighing again, the raven haired girl squeezed Rachel tighter against her and nodded her head, letting the smaller girl know that they were done with that topic. _For now._

"Y'know, before you so rudely interrupted me with your mysterious appearance," mocked the Cheerio, nudging lightly Rachel's arm with her own, "I was going to head home." The girl felt Rachel tense slightly against her, making her frown. If those body signals meant something, the Latina knew that her next words would be completely unsuccessful, but that didn't stop her from trying.

"Come with me?"

Looking up at the eyes gazing at her, _through_ her, Rachel felt her stomach knot painfully; not knowing if it was at the prospect of the pain that would be present on Santana's face if she refused, or fear for what would await for her when she arrived home much later that day if she didn't.

Looking at her right, moving her gaze away from Santana's, Rachel took a deep breath, and slowly, started disentangling herself from Santana, only to pry her legs apart and kneel between them, as she had done when they had collapsed to the floor. Santana had moved her hands to rest on her hips, holding onto something to prevent the fear of rejection cloud her mind and not let the other girl wander away. When the Latina locked her gaze once again with Rachel, the look of pain and resignation she was met with made her look away.

It was as if Rachel was trying to let her know that, happened what happened to her, she didn't want the Latina to try and stop it. Realization stabbed her in her heart, because, no one should suffer what the other girl was suffering, even if she didn't know what _that_ was. The smaller girl moved her hands to place them on Santana's cheeks, cupping her face to offer comfort, not capable of seeing the strong girl suffering. Looking into her eyes, the girl asked for permission _– as if she would've needed it_ – while she leaned into Santana, bringing their lips together; the Latina meeting her halfway.

This time, their kiss was sweet and soft, full of reassurance that happened what happened, they would be there for each other. Santana pulled Rachel's plump bottom lip into her mouth, relishing at the feeling of the soft flesh against her tongue. Rachel, for her part, had tilted her head, to allow Santana more access. The older girl smiled into the kiss at the invitation given by the other girl, her tongue swiping against the other girl's lips until she finally opened her mouth fully, letting Santana explore the wonders of one Rachel Berry's mouth. The raven haired girl felt the hesitation present in every move the smaller girl did, making her think that, maybe, she had been her first kiss. _And second. Must not forget second._

Grinning widely, Santana stopped the kiss, allowing them to take in oxygen properly through their mouths to steady their erratic breathing.

Looking down with a neutral expression, almost pressing her forehead to Santana's, the girl murmured "I'm really sorry, Santana, but I should go" while prying Santana's hands off her hips gently, making the girl get up carefully when she did.

Both girls had already straightened up; both of them afraid of the sudden wave of awkwardness that threatened to fall over them. Lifting her head, smiling shyly when Santana did the same, Rachel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, taking a step back. When she looked back up, the gaze with whom Santana had her fixed made her heart stop. There were such care and concern in her eyes that she could practically hear her shouting at her to _please, come with me, I don't want you to hurt anymore._

Her first instinct was to run; she wasn't used to people caring that much about her. It scared her to let her walls down; afraid of losing the defenses that she had worked so hard to build. She didn't need anyone else crawling under her skin, only to rip it to shreds at every occasion they got.

And even when she tried to trust Santana – she already did - , the small girl couldn't help but think of the consequences, not only for her, but for Santana. She wasn't a good person for Santana. She wasn't good enough, couldn't be good enough.

How could she be? There was Santana, offering her shelter – only temporal, but shelter after all – without even knowing why she would have to do so, just to help her. And Rachel wasn't stupid. She knew that once the Latina discovered about her, _if_ she found out about her, she would immediately turn her back to the _midget_, the _hobbit_, _RuPaul_, the _freak_ who didn't even have one friend.

"Hey" whispered Santana, forcing her to stay out of her less than nice thoughts. "Are you okay? This…this wasn't too much, was it?" asked the tall Cheerio, pointing between them with an unsure look. At this, Rachel sucked her lips into her mouth and shook her head, a small smile threatening to break free, because, _how could I ever have thought that this girl was anything other than sweet and caring?_

"Good" answered the cheerleader, smiling like a fool. She was sure that if she had had her sneakers on, she would have dipped the tip of her shoe into the floor, moving it shyly. "Was it…was I your…" the raven haired girl closed her eyes, frustrated with herself for not being able to utter the proper words. "Was I your first kiss?" finished the girl, looking at Rachel through her eyelashes, making Rachel blush and crack a little smile.

"Yeah." Was all the usually long-winded-speeches girl said. Santana's smile grew wider.

After a moment of just staring into each other's eyes, Santana uttered a small "Come with me."

Rachel's smile vanished from her face, instantly being replaced by an apologetic expression.

"You know I can't."

"Well, actually I don't."

Feeling the mood turn from a nice one, a _really _nice one, to one serious again, the smaller girl wondered how that could have happened in such a short period of time and just because of three simple words.

"Rachel, I know that you are passing through a rough patch right now-"

"You don't know anything" was the answer, the straining of Rachel's voice making her sound more childish than usual. "If you knew, you wouldn't throw frozen drinks at me for the mere fact that I'm not popular, or beautiful, or because I'm not dating a half brained football player." Her eyes were spitting fire, her fists tensed at her sides, trying not to say anything hurtful to the only person who had shown some kind of concern for her. The main word being _trying_.

Breathing in deeply, Rachel murmured "I'm sorry" and turned around, ready to head to the doors once again, but Santana had taken a hold of her upper arm, spinning her around with a soft, yet firm tug.

"Please, just-"

"Please" whispered the tiny brunette, her voice breaking and her eyes watering; the most heartbreaking sight the Latina had ever seen. At this, Santana let go of her, the freshman girl running out of the doors without sparing a second glance at the Latina, getting out of the other girl's line of vision.

Finally getting out of her stupor, Santana's eyes filled with angry tears, a feral howl escaping her lips at the impotence of her situation. She could just watch the other girl getting hurt, not being able to do anything until the other girl let her know, let her _care_, let her help her.

Running towards the lockers, the girl let out a keening wail just before kicking one of the lockers with all of her might, the metal combing and bending at the middle, the metallic sound echoing through the whole hall.

"Fuck!" yelled the girl, leaning back against another locker and sliding down to the floor sobbing, her hands covering her face while her whole body trembled with the force of her sobs.


	7. It Could Be Worse

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee.**

**Well, I've finally decided to give you a glimpse of Rachel's life. Hope it doesn't disappoint. This will just tell how each day goes for Rachel. **

**Sorry for any mistakes. I wrote this as fast as I could because I'm in a hurry :)**

**Warning: Deals with self – harm issues.**

* * *

Rachel didn't stop running until she arrived at her house, two whole miles away from school. Her hair was disheveled; her cheeks bright red and she could barely breathe. Making sure that there was no car in the garage, the tiny girl pulled the spare key from under the rug in front of the door out and opened it, carefully setting the key in its previous position and closing the door behind her.

The brunette ran upstairs, opening her bedroom door and closing it with a thud. The girl entered the bathroom, instantly washing her face and applying foundation on her cheeks, covering the bruise since she knew that Amy would be the first one to come home. It had been kind of stupid to not have applied make up when she had gone to see Santana that afternoon, but she had not expected the Latina to see her. She had just put lip gloss on, so that people walking on the street wouldn't notice anything strange on her; her hair did the rest of the job. But, sincerely, she should have known better.

Once she was satisfied with the results, Rachel straightened and inspected herself in the mirror. The long bangs, the big nose, the plump lips. Those were the only things that hadn't changed in the past two and a half years.

Oh God, Santana had kissed her lips. Santana Lopez, the most beautiful and caring person she had ever met. Sure, she had had to scratch the surface, but once she did, what waited for her beneath was more than she could ever have imagined.

Suddenly, a wave of doubts assaulted her head. _Is Santana my friend? Do I want her to get closer to me? What if she finds out about me? Will she be with me then? Wait. Is she with me? _

The sound of the front door opening pulled her out of her thoughts immediately, the girl panicking slightly at the sound of someone arriving home.

Remembering that it should be Amy, Rachel relaxed immediately, and entered back into her room, pulling some books out of her backpack and opening them on her little timber desk, sitting on the uncomfortable chair that matched the table, pretending to be studying.

The brunette heard rustling downstairs, and knew that Amy was moving her luggage into her room; hopeful that the one week trip to Los Angeles would have improved her temper and mood. When Rachel really had started absorbing the words displayed in front of her, she heard the sound of heels going up the stairs, and unconsciously the girl straightened up on her chair and breathed deeply.

Rachel felt the clicking stop in front of her door, and held her breath. When the door opened, the girl hadn't even had time to greet Amy when the door closed again, letting her alone once more. The brunette closed her eyes in relief and let out a shaky breath, thanking whoever she could think of for that little period of peace that she was experiencing.

That night, the girl didn't go downstairs for dinner. Damien had already arrived.

She opted instead to take a quick shower, wash her teeth and go to sleep early, not wanting to risk any encounter with the man.

But that was asking too much, wasn't it?

Just when she had settled herself comfortably in her bed, the door to her room opened, revealing a red cheeked Damien.

"What are you doin'ere?" slurred the obviously drunk man without expecting an answer that Rachel knew better than to provide.

The tall man walked in the room, the shadows covering and distorting his features more and more with each step he took towards Rachel. Finally, the man neared Rachel enough to make her move closer to the opposite side of the small bed out of fear. The man took the new left space and sat down, like a father would do before tucking his children in bed. But Rachel didn't have that mental image at all. The bed was small enough for Rachel to feel every movement of Damien almost against her skin.

"Y'know," continued the man in his husky, slurred voice. "Your daddies called…today…" trailed off the man, the alcohol obviously hitting him in that moment. But the words had made their effect, as Rachel tensed at the words on the other side of the small bed, her head snapping towards the flushed man.

"They-" hiccup, "they asked me if I had shown up at their house to water their plants" finished the man, his face showing a drunken grimace instead of the evil smirk he was trying to produce. At the same time, Rachel could feel the back of her eyes burning with unshed tears, with the tears that she wasn't going to show the despicable man.

However, the man still had enough capacity of reception in his state of drunkenness to notice the way the girl's shoulders dropped in the barely there light entering the room by the door the man had left open when he entered. Almost smiling in satisfaction, the man searched for Rachel's leg over the covers, running his hand up and down the covered leg. The girl knew better than to let the repulsion and fear take over her features, instead showing a stony façade. Finally squeezing the bottom of Rachel's thigh, getting up and leaving the room with a mocking 'Goodnight sweetie', the man closed the door, leaving the distressed girl in the most utter darkness.

Whimpering pitifully, Rachel let the tears fall heavily, removing the covers from her legs and jerkily walking to the en suite, closing the door and practically tearing the pants of her pajamas off, almost not bearing the thought of touching them while she did, throwing them across the bathroom until they landed with barely no sound into the bath tub.

Jerking, slapping and scratching her leg as if it had a spider hanging from it, the girl finally stopped when the pain overpowered any other emotion, and Rachel felt her feet positioning her in front of her sink.

Opening the cabinet hanging above the sink, the girl rummaged across various medicines and tablets until she found what she was looking for.

Extracting the little razor blade out of a paper envelope, Rachel took it carefully and set it on the palm of her hand, looking at it like she would to an autographed poster of Barbra.

Gripping it with trembling fingers, the girl raised her left sleeve with her wrist, making a row of cuts appear in front of her eyes. Breathing deeply, Rachel pressed the sharp edge against her higher forearm, sliding it slowly across the skin and feeling the delicious pain cut through her like a sword.

Closing her eyes at the forbidden pleasure, at the only way of escaping she had had for two and a half years, Rachel smiled weakly, letting the crimson trickle its way down her forearm to her wrist. A couple minutes later, when Rachel felt the fog dissipating from her mind, Rachel washed her arm and the small metal device and covered her new incision with disinfectant gauze supported by a strip of plaster. Sliding the sleeve of her pajama down, the girl hid the razor once again and closet the cabinet small crystal door, making her face appear reflected in front of her.

Looking at her disheveled bangs, her red rimmed eyes and tear tracks present in her once shiny face, made her face crumple, her eyes filling with tears once again; a weak wail escaping her lips at the realization of how low she had fallen.

Leaning her back against the wall and slipping down until she was sitting on the floor, her legs bent so that her arms could surround them and the girl could hide her head between her torso and her lower extremities.

Hopefully, Amy wouldn't come that night and slap her across the face for sobbing too loudly.


	8. Once Again

**Thanks for all the reviews; they really keep me going :)**

**From now on, I'll try to post longer chapters! Yay! Party hard!**

**And following advice from one reviewer (thank you ;)), I added the warnings to the summary. Enjoy and review!**

* * *

The next day, Santana was nervously fiddling with her phone, anxiously waiting by her locker. A Cheerio and Brittany were chatting animatedly about cats – like_, what the fucking fuck, stranger_ – , and therefore, none of them noticed the barely covered way in which Santana was tapping her foot, or moving her gaze nervously from her locker to the school main doors and back.

After almost five minutes of doing nothing but look like a creep, Santana thought that she'd be able to run to Rachel and engulf her in a gigantic hug if the girl magically appeared by the doors.

Not even the approaching figure of one Quinn Fabray managed to get her out of her midget-centered thoughts. Until Quinn stopped in front of her, that's it.

"The Cheerio's locker room. Now." Quinn snapped, receiving a weird look from Santana.

"What?" shrieked the Latina. "So, you act all bitchy with me and now I have to follow you? Keep dreaming, blondie." Answered Santana, finally paying attention to her locker, her task of looking for Rachel momentarily thrown aside.

Chuckling lightly and dismissing with her hand the two Cheerios who were escorting her, Quinn's face morphed into a deathly serious one.

"I think that you don't understand what I'm trying to imply." At this, Santana looked at her for a moment, raising her eyebrow in challenge, turning her head to her locker almost immediately.

Quinn's smirk just got wider, the mischievous glint Santana had seen on their last encounter present once again in the blonde's eyes.

"Tell me, Santana," spoke up the beautiful blonde, her chin jutting more with each word she uttered, "Do you want me to help you come out of the closet?" Was the question that made Santana's head whip towards Quinn's, her eyes wide and fearful; a very different version of the Santana she proclaimed to be on a daily basis.

* * *

Don't get her wrong, Santana wasn't afraid of coming out. Not in school, at least. The sheep could kiss her ass whenever they wanted, but wasn't about them who Quinn was talking about, and Santana knew it.

When they were fifteen, in one of their weekly sleepovers, Santana had confessed to her friends the kind of experiments she had been doing with some girls on the squad, and the conclusion she had tripped into.

Obviously, Quinn and Brittany had been totally supportive of her condition, and vowed to keep it a secret for Santana's sake.

Well, some students had noticed the Cheerio fooling around with other cheerleaders, and looking hot as hell, no one had dared to confront her.

But her family was a completely different matter. Her uncle José had come out of the closet eleven years ago; claiming that he hadn't chosen his condition, that he hadn't asked to be who he was, but that he wouldn't try and change it.

Her abuela had disowned her own son.

Santana's mom had never talked to him ever again.

In that moment, little innocent Santana didn't understand the reason why her favorite uncle couldn't visit her anymore, or carry her to those movie nights she liked so much, or simply sit with her and listen to a funny radio channel while eating candy.

But once she did and her teenage feelings started flowering, fear took over her. But there were Quinn and Brittany, making it better, keeping her secret as their own.

So now, walking behind a high headed Quinn Fabray, following her into the Cheerio's locker room, Santana couldn't help but feel a tiny part of her heart breaking

The door hadn't even closed completely, when an affronted Santana Lopez shouted at her childhood friend "What the fuck do you want, Fabray?"

Biting the corner of her mouth, Quinn quirked up her lips.

"Oh! In second name terms now, Lopez?" teased the slightly taller girl.

Raising a single finger and pointing it at her teammate, Santana half closed her eyes.

"Don't you dare fuck with me, Lucy Quinn Fabray."

Once again, Quinn's teasing face had transformed into a stony one.

"You're not in position to demand anything, Santana. I thought that you would want to make this the easy way, but now I see that-" "What. Do. You. Want." Growled Santana, her eyes closing as the girl pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to retain the headache that was, most certainly, coming.

Closing the gap that their shouting had created, Quinn stayed foot to foot with Santana, her chest puffed out in some weird display of domination between either monkeys or teenagers.

"I want your spot on the Cheerios." Those seven words could resume the whole point of their rather stupid rivalry. Santana just stood there, mouth hanging wide open, eyes incredulously staring at Quinn.

"You know, being co-captain, I have to go either beating people up like you do or date Finn to maintain me on top. But if I have to keep watching my only pass to complete domination of the school drool over stupid hobbits" at this, Santana clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, Quinn not noticing since she had lowered her eyes to her perfect manicured nails, "I think I'm gonna cut a bitch, like you so eloquently would have put it."

Santana stood straight, her nostrils expanding and contracting with every rage-filled breath she took. She knew Quinn's modus operandi. She had been present last Friday, when her Cheerios cornered Rachel in the parking lot.

Hell, that had been her own modus operandi for the greatest part of High School.

However, the Cheerio couldn't help but feel but feel relieved when Quinn gave no signals of introducing Rachel in the conversation, for a moment having been afraid that Quinn had discovered about their encounter the day before, or worse; that Quinn had decided to act on her hate for Rachel.

"So what, if I don't hand you my only opportunity at a scholarship, you're gonna destroy my relation with my family?" asked the tan girl, her own ears not accepting the truth behind the words.

And even though it was not reflected in her demeanor, Santana knew that the words had made their trick; as Quinn moved her gaze to the right, avoiding eye contact. Finally looking back at Santana, Quinn squared her shoulders, and for a moment, Santana saw her childhood friend peeking out from those hazel eyes.

"Your GPA average is 3.8, you'll get a full scholarship anyway."

Letting out a snort, Santana looked up at the ceiling as she shook her head, her lips twitching up, making clear that she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Santana, stop that crap. This isn't how blackmail works, you're not in position to negotiate, and you won't. You know that your mother is one phone call away from me." Threatened the blonde, finally fed up with all the resistance Santana was opposing.

Santana raised her eyes in resignation, her glare taking a hard edge that her former friend had never had directed her way. She was seriously having trouble believing that the person who had promised to be there for her forever and to keep her deepest secrets was selling her out over a stupid spot at the Cheerios. God, life couldn't get any fucking worse.

"Okay Quinnie. You get what you want." The Latina got closer to the Christian girl, her noses almost touching. "But if you think that this is it, _Luce_, you're so. Very. Wrong. That it's not even funny" finished Santana, punctuating each word with a jab on her chest with her index finger.

The shorter girl turned around and whipped open the door, but just before she left the room, she looked back, her hateful expression and her betrayed glaze breaking something in Quinn's heart that she didn't even know could still break.

The tall blonde was pushed out of her thoughts by the resonating slamming of the door, leaving her alone in the Cheerio's locker room.

Shaking her head to clear her mind from those stupid _feelings _thoughts, Quinn angled her shoulders, lifted her chin, dusted off her pristine Cheerio's skirt and cracked a smirk while she opened the door, coming face to face once again to the population of William McKinley.

* * *

It was lunch period, and Santana was so deep in thought about her conversation with Quinn that didn't realize that Brittany had been talking to her about Lord Tubbington for what looked like five full minutes.

Sitting in the furthest chair possible from Quinn while still sitting at the same table, Santana glared unamusedly at her protein shake, its pink color making her stomach churn.

When she looked to her right, she found Brittany clapping her hands excitedly and bouncing on her seat, making her crack a little smile.

"What's up, Britts?" asked the Hispanic girl quite absent mindedly.

"I just remembered! Mr. Schuester, that hot guy that is always talking in my Spanish classes, said that I could pass the class if I joined glee club!"

_What?_

"What? Is that even legal?"

"Of course it is, S! People singing can't kill other people, even if they're not singing too, silly head" replied the ditzy blonde as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Smiling, Santana shook her head at her friend, grimacing inside at the prospect of what could happen once she was forced to join glee along with Brittany.

Glee club? Wasn't that like… Loserland? Homo-explosion? No. That dumbass Mr. Schuester wasn't going to drag her reputation even lower now that she wasn't Head Cheerio anymore. That wasn't right, and Santana was pretty sure that that wasn't his job, either.

Fucking great. Now, she was probably going to have to join glee, and she wasn't even at the top of the pyramid anymore. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Besides…" trailed off Brittany, shoving her finger into her protein shake and moving it in circular motions. Santana, used to her best friend's behavior, nudged her shoulder with her own, encouraging her to tell her whatever it was that she wanted to tell her friend.

"Ms. Pillsbury told me that to graduate, I had to pass Spanish too" finished the blonde in a murmur, lifting her stained finger and shoving it into her mouth, removing every trace of protein shake of it.

Fuck. That was a valid point. A very valid point.

Sighing loudly and closing her eyes, Santana slowly nodded to the unasked question, making Brittany squeal excitedly, the taller girl lunging towards her and engulfing her in a rib-breaking hug.

"Thakyouthankyouthankyou! I gotta tell Lord Tubbington like, right now!" Exclaimed Brittany, shooting off her chair and pulling her phone out of her backpack.

Santana just sighed, moving her head to the left and finding a smirking Quinn Fabray looking at her with her perfect eyebrow raised.

_Fuck. My. Life._

* * *

Santana was once again in the Cheerio's locker room; her obligations as freaking shit-Cheerio-cleaner not having changed one bit, even when she herself had gone to Coach Sylvester and told her about her desire to change positions in the pyramid. Obviously, Coach had been incredibly pissed off, making her run ten laps more than any of the other Cheerios, Quinn trying to push her to the ground every time they got close enough.

The tan girl couldn't help but look longingly to the door, recalling the encounter that she and Rachel had held the day before.

Their kisses… God, their kisses. Rachel was obviously inexperienced, but in Santana's mind, that had made the actions much more beautiful and endearing.

_Rachel…Oh, Rach. I wish you told me what's happening to you._

Santana was starting to fear that the stupid crush she had developed weeks ago when she heard Rachel sing had started morphing into something else. Something more.

Because that unbearable desire to follow the girl home one day and face her demons for her; that craving to hold her against her chest and let her stay there, _forever, _that couldn't be just a high school crush.

The girl didn't want to admit it, but she was scared. Rachel hadn't come to class during the whole week, and even though she had seen her the day before, the worry wouldn't fade away.

But, whatever. Santana Lopez wasn't scared of anything, she just was overprotective, _okay?_

The teenager was inspecting the last locker – and by inspecting, meaning trying to remember whose bitch was that locker so that she could shove her gum in there - deep in thought, when she heard someone lightly knocking on the door.

Head wiping towards the doors, the Latina didn't even waste a second before she was running towards the doors, almost collapsing against them in her hurry, the only thought present in her head:

_Please, let it be Rachel._

Stepping back to open the right door, Santana was met with the sight of one Rachel Berry, her hands gripping the edge of her skirt, bottom lip between her teeth, almost shy of being seen.

And before she knew what she was doing, Santana had her arms around the tiny figure, squeezing the life out of her. Her left hand flew to the back of Rachel's neck, tangling in her hair, her eyes closing tightly as she inhaled the essence that was only _Rachel._

"We have to stop meeting like this" joked the Cheerio, smiling when she felt Rachel's arms tightening around her waist followed by a soft chuckle.

After a few minutes of just holding, Santana pulled back, tilting her head down and softly kissing Rachel's forehead.

"You worried me" murmured Santana against the warm skin. She felt Rachel nodding, her eyelashes ghosting against the skin of Santana's chin.

"I'm sorry" was the mumbled answer.

The taller girl didn't answer, just sighed deeply and kissed the younger girl's temple.

"How long are you staying today?" asked Santana, not bearing the thought of Rachel ever leaving her side, even though she knew that was just what would happen.

"I don't know. I guess… Twenty more minutes." Answered the Jewish girl, making Santana frown and close her eyes.

"Are you sure? Can't you stay a little longer?"

"Santana…" sighed Rachel in a warning tone.

"I know. I know, but just…" taking a deep breath, Santana asked for the obvious. "You have problems at home, don't you?" Silence.

Santana felt Rachel stiffening in her arms, trying to pull away, but Santana just tightened her hold.

"How long did you think it would take for me to figure it out?"

Once again, silence.

Rachel was gripping her shoulders, hard. But she didn't give a damn.

"C'mon, Rach."

"I thought you'd understand." Came the teary answer, her voice catching in her throat. At this, Santana's eyes widened, suddenly alert.

"What?" squealed the Cheerio, moving away from Rachel just to be able to cup her face with both of her hands, forcing her to make eye contact.

"Rachel, I… how can you even think that I don't support you? No, sweetie, c'mon, look at me." At this point, Santana's voice had started to tremble, her eyes itching and blurring dangerously, still clear enough to make out the purple mark she had spotted the day before on the girl's cheek. When their eyes connected once again, Santana inched forward, taking Rachel's lips in for a quick kiss. "Listen to me. If you wanted, I'd be there for you every fucking moment I could. And if you didn't, well, I's still be fucking there." The girl laughed nervously, and licked her surprisingly dry lips.

"There's nothing you could possibly do, or say to keep that from happening." Rachel already had tears streaming down her face, the passion pouring from the girl in front of her hitting her heart like a freight train.

"Do you understand?" asked the tanner girl, and not receiving an answer. "Do you understand?" repeated the girl, this time shaking the other girl's head lightly, her voice straining.

Rachel just jerkily nodded her head, sniffling soundly and lunching herself towards Santana, both of them trembling slightly against each other.

Five minutes later, a "Do you realize that almost all of our encounters involve crying?" uttered by Rachel made them separate from each other enough to look at each other, and the two girls started laughing loudly, relief washing over them.

* * *

A few minutes later, both of them were properly recovered from their, – once again –, crying session; Rachel about to head home, as well as Santana.

Looking at the floor thoughtfully as she swung their joined hands while they walked to the parking lot, Santana spoke up.

"Would you like to join Glee club?"

Head wiping towards Santana, the girl looked at her as if she had just implied that Rachel had sex with Jacob Ben Israel.

"I don't think that is a good idea." Was the answer she finally settled for.

"What? You're not going to come to school ever again or what? Teachers will start asking questions, and you're like one hell of a singer."

Rachel seemed to be deep in thought, her hand tightening around Santana's.

"I'll" closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Rachel smiled up at Santana. "I'll think about it."

"Look, if it's gonna cause you anymore trouble, you can just-"

"No, no. I think it'll be okay. I just have to… to think about it. And then, I'll be able to give you an accurate answer."

Smiling down at Rachel, Santana stopped her and leaned down, joining their lips in a sweet kiss. "You're the best singer I've ever heard. People will kill to sing a freaking song with you." Assured Santana against the tiny brunette's lips, her smile giving away the seriousness of the statement.

"Let's hope not" was the playful answer.

When they arrived to Santana's car, the tall girl looked hopefully at Rachel.

"Can I carry you home?" At the lack of answer, Santana sticked out her bottom lip – in a totally non badass way –, and made her very best puppy eyes, murmuring "Please" as she rocked from side to side.

Finally breaking into a broad smile, Rachel slapped Santana's arm playfully, making her smile too.

"I guess it won't hurt…" she hadn't even had time to end the sentence when a pair of wet, soft lips engulfed hers in a passionate kiss; definitely less innocent than any of the others that they had shared until that moment. Santana was suddenly glad that she had sticked her gum to Quinn's locker door.

Breaking it, Santana palmed the hood of her Mustang, making a sign with her head for Rachel to get in.

"C'mon, Berry, get your cute little ass into Auntie Tana's love machine" joked the girl, making Rachel giggle madly like the fifteen year old that she was. That was probably the single less mature thing that Santana had found Rachel doing.

Smiling, the Latina decided that, from that moment on, she would try to relive the little innocent teenager inside of Rachel as much as she could.

"Okay. The Love cruise is on, lady!"


	9. I miss you

** DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee**

**Thanks for the favs and reviews! They keep me going, I just love that things so much... [sighs].**

**Well, I was going to post a longer chapter, but I decided to cut it in a half and give you some fluffiness and some feelings. Yup.**

**Mmm, I'm too tired to proofread, so I apologize for all the misakes that, I'm sure, I made.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

The drive from school to Rachel's house had been short and comfortably silent, with exception of the few directions given by Rachel. Each few seconds, Santana couldn't help but look out of the corner of her eye at the petite brunette; failing each time she tried to hide the smile that the sight produced her. Two minutes later, they arrived. Rachel had let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief when she didn't see any car in the driveway.

Santana knew the neighborhood; she had been there plenty of times to visit Brittany. However, she had never seen that house, or maybe she just hadn't paid enough attention, because she didn't remember having been in that part of the neighborhood before. Sighing, the girl came to a stop just in front of the two storied white house, filling an empty spot. Before Rachel could even unbuckle completely her seatbelt, Santana had left the car, running towards the petite brunette's door and opening it for her, making the younger girl smile from ear to ear.

Santana just rolled her eyes slightly, resting it importance.

"You can't open that fucking door from the inside. So. Whatever." Murmured, averting her eyes so that she didn't have to look into those adoring eyes and feel her cheeks redden even more.

Nodding as if she had believed Santana, Rachel's smile contracted a little, so that her flawless teeth weren't on display. Santana moved her gaze towards the house, her brow furrowing.

"You want me to enter with you?" asked the Latina in a wary voice, not wanting Rachel to leave her side just _yet._

"No" answered Rachel immediately, making the other girl's frown deeper.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head lightly, Rachel stepped up until she reached Santana, and laced her right hand fingers with hers.

Before Santana had time to put up her walls, Rachel got on her tip toes and brushed her lips against the older girl's, making her close her eyes instantly. Sliding her right hand up the Latina's arm until she reached the back of her neck, the tiny girl tugged slightly, making Santana bow her head and surround Rachel's tiny waist, pressing them impossibly together.

Both of them were having trouble breathing through their noses, but they didn't care when Santana's tongue got in contact with Rachel's. The Latina could almost hear Rachel's heartbeat; or maybe it was her own. It was impossible to tell.

Feeling her legs starting to tremble, Santana proceeded to move Rachel backwards until she hit the passenger door of the Hispanic girl's car with her back. Now, both of her hands were tangled in Santana's hair, wanting her as close as possible, while Santana's were gripping the back of the brunette's sweater with the same purpose, making her hit the window of her car with her knuckles every time one of them swayed to deepen the kiss.

Rachel tilted her head down, opening her mouth wide to take in much needed oxygen, but the movement was almost useless as her top lip was trapped between both of Santana's.

The petite girl's head was cloudy. All her mind could process was Santana's lips on hers, her hands already under her sweater, caressing her lower back tenderly in spite of the passion that was being poured into the kiss. And for a moment, Rachel felt the need to just see Santana; see her mussed hair and her red swollen lips and her expanding nostrils. Moving her hands to the Latina's face, Rachel pushed the taller girl away, being met with resistance the whole way, even though their noses were still touching.

Both of them were breathing heavily; their ragged breaths and the blood pounding in their ears the only things they were able to identify in that moment of bliss. The petite girl moved her head back and had to stop Santana from joining their noses once more. Because she just wanted to see her. Her dark brown eyes were sparkling with affection and need, with so much passion that they made her forget for a moment where she was, what was happening, who _she_ was.

Fighting against the tears of emotion that threatened to take over her vision, Rachel moved her fingers, pulling the hair out of the raven haired girl's face. Putting her hands over Rachel's and moving them to her shoulders, Santana leaned in again, making their lips almost touch, but not quite. With their mouths wide open, they were breathing a mix of oxygen and the air the other had exhaled, creating a scolding mix.

"You" whispered the older girl, her lips brushing against Rachel's. "Should give me your number."

That caused a snort out of the brunette, who started giggling softly against the other girl's chin, making her smile in response.

"I'd be delighted to give you my number" answered Rachel dramatically, blinking madly.

"Yeah?" murmured Santana, her voice trembling with the effort of containing an amused chuckle. In answer, Rachel just smiled cheekily at her in an exaggerated display of teeth.

Smiling, Santana straightened up to return to her normal height, and tightened her hold on Rachel, whose head was now squished against the Latina's collarbone. The taller girl sighed, basking in the perfection of that moment, when movement caught her eye. Her gaze caressed the front façade of the house right in front of Rachel's; and suddenly stopped at the swinging curtains of the window where a woman had been looking at them seconds before.

Santana's breath hitched, her body tensing up in panic. Rachel noticed, and with great effort, backed up enough to be able to lift her face and look at the Latina's.

"What happened?" asked the tiny brunette in a soft murmur. Looking down at her, Santana saw the innocence pouring from every pore in the girl's face, and her heart twitched painfully. Moving one hand to pull the hair out of Rachel's face softly, Santana made direct eye contact with her.

"Promise me you'll come to class tomorrow."

The corners of her mouth curling up a little, Rachel bit her lip, and moving her bangs out of her eyes, she nodded; jerkily at first.

The answer only seemed to comfort Santana a little; definitely less than Rachel could have expected. Nodding her own head as to confirm the affirmation to herself, Santana encircled Rachel once more, wanting to see if any other person was around without alerting the brunette. When the tall Latina was satisfied with her work, she squeezed the tiny girl one last time before letting her go. After exchanging phones, both girls decided it was time to head home.

"You should get in there" advised Santana, nodding towards the house. Nodding awkwardly, Rachel stepped away from the car, wincing lightly when she felt the rear view mirror that had marked her skin move away.

Now, the two girls were right in front of the other; suddenly not knowing what to do without their lips pressed together.

"I guess I'll…see you tomorrow" finally said Santana, worrying the back of her neck. Nodding, the other girl smiled sweetly, her clasped hand swaying slightly in her barely covered state of euphoria.

"Cool." Hesitating a little, Santana finally rolled her eyes at her own stupidity and leaned down to deliver one last soft kiss to Rachel's lips.

"Bye" murmured the girl once she had straightened up, her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.

"Bye" waved off the little girl, as she saw the Hispanic girl open the driver's door and hop into her car. The smaller brunette didn't move from her standing position until Santana's car turned around her street's corner. Letting the grin that had been dying to break free appear, Rachel couldn't help the squeal that escaped her lips at the same time she held her tiny fist in the air.

Looking right and left to see if she had been caught in her strange display of excitement, Rachel ran her fingers through her slightly curled hair and turned towards the middle sized house, her shoulders high and eyes shining. That had been the first time in a long while in which she had felt truly carefree; in which she hadn't had to put up her mask.

* * *

Santana felt great. Her fingers were tingling and her cheeks were hurting; her smile couldn't get any bigger. Happy as she was, the Latina even decided to turn on the radio; she was sure that all that excitement had to get out in some way or she'd explode.

The raven haired girl ran her tongue over her lips to collect any remnants of Rachel in them, and _smirked;_ she could still taste Rachel in her own mouth.

Five minutes later, Santana parked her car at its spot on the driveway and got into her house, where her father was already preparing dinner.

"Dad, why are you here so early?" asked an unusually chirpy Santana while she opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

Smiling and scoffing playfully at his daughter, Armando shoved her shoulder lightly, cracking up when the girl almost spit the water out.

"You realize that you're the one who's late, right?" asked the tall man, his eyebrow raised teasingly. Santana laughed it off and looked at her wrist watch, her eyes widening comically when she saw that she had arrived half an hour later than usual. Nonetheless, that didn't erase the gigantic smile that, now, seemed to be glued to her face.

"And well?" inquired the older Lopez while he poured the contents on a plate into a frying pan, "What has you in such a good mood today?"

Her face morphing into one of fake surprise for good measure, Santana opened her mouth exaggeratedly, the back of her hand hitting her dad's upper arm "Me? Are you implying that I'm not in a good mood the rest of the time?" When her father lifted his arms in a defensive manner, Santana chuckled and ran upstairs, coming back down again to grab her forgotten duffle bag. When the girl didn't grumble or groan as usual, Armando just smiled, knowing that something special had happened.

* * *

When Santana finished dinner, she helped her parents clean the table and went to her room, the long day finally taking its toll on the dark haired girl. Closing her door, Santana proceeded to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas, as usual. After following through her before-bed tasks, Santana picked up her phone and locked her door. Once the tall girl was comfortably seated with her upper back against the headboard, she unlocked her phone and looked for her newest number.

Looking at the ID she had set as _Rach,_ Santana sent a quick text message, hoping to receive an answer.

_Hey there gorgeous. U miss me? I do_

It crossed her mind that she was being a cheesy ball of happiness and that Rachel would be able to tell the moment she read the message, but she didn't give a damn. It was her fault, really.

_Santana? I must admit I expected a cruder comment, I'm positively surprised. _

Snorting at the text message she received a minute after she had sent her own, Santana shook her head and answered.

_What? U ain't gonna say anything bout my sappy txt? God Berry, I said I miss u. I expect some reward._

Obviously, Santana had been joking about the reward, her giddiness making her write things she would never do in any other context. She had just…_feelings_, as much as she hated to admit it, and Rachel was helping her, _making_ her bring them to the surface. When her phone vibrated, Santana jumped out of her thoughts to stare once again at her phone's screen. The Latina unlocked it with a big smile on her face, anxiously wanting to read what the brunette had written. _No, not anxiously. Santana Lopez doesn't do that shit. _

Scoffing mentally at her own ridiculousness, Santana opened the text.

_I'm sorry, I didn't know how to properly react to your previous message. No one's ever said they missed me before._

Santana just stared at the phone; her eyes looking through it.

No one had ever…what?

She had always taken words easily, not caring about the meaning. And she had thrown words too. Oh, had she _thrown _words.

Words were a double edge weapon. They could break someone a little; always a little. There were people who just waited for words to bring them down completely; who were defenseless and didn't know how to reflect them. But words could build you tougher. You could learn from them, use them as your own defense mechanism.

Santana knew this very well, but even with that knowledge, she had never paid much attention to words.

She could spat them as easily as it was a daily thing. Which it was, really. She was known for that fact, after all. And she also knew what words did to her, but she didn't care either, because she was one of those few people who didn't care about their feelings until they were all alone and with a bottle of whisky at hand; until they could cry alone and deserted. As long as no one knew that she had feelings, everything was ok.

And there were good words. Words that could light up your day coming from the appropriate person. Words that could encourage you to do whatever you proposed. Those words were the most important ones. The ones that mattered; the ones that everyone wanted and _deserved _to hear.

Santana didn't receive them as often as she would have wanted to, but she would never say so. At the end of the day, she was the one who pushed people away; people who would give her the good words if they had the chance. She was the one who hurt them before they could hurt her, even though some of them would never do so.

So, when she read Rachel's text and got what the text was implying, the Latina couldn't help but feel her insides knot up at the little girl's words.

Rachel was like her in so many ways. They both put up a front in public; none of them wanting to give people ammunition against them. In Santana's case, it had worked. And it looked as if in Rachel's too. Partly, at least.

No one had ever looked beyond the little girl with two gay dads who, _maybe_, was coping with more than she let show, with more than most of them would have to in their whole life.

And if Santana's assumptions were correct, and they were – _I'm Santana fucking Lopez, I'm never wrong _– ,she also liked to keep her feelings under a thick mass of indifference and false bravado, just to deal with them in the loneliness of her house. Because Santana fucking knew that it was impossible to keep them locked in forever. She has tried and failed.

Biting her bottom lip, the raven haired girl unlocked her phone once more and looked at the bright screen before tipping.

_Well, you better get used to it. I wish you were here with me._

Not even she knew she could pour so much of herself in a short text message with barely fifteen words in it, but she did. And she didn't regret it one fucking bit.

_Thank you, Santana. You don't know how much that means to me, truly. _

And a few seconds later.

_I miss you too._

Blinking to keep the damn allergies out of her eyes, Santana shot her phone one last watery smile before she tipped:

_'Night, gorgeous. I'll dream bout that mouth of yours._

Practically imagining the childish giggle that would escape the other girl's lips even while trying to stifle it out, Santana chuckled slightly when she received a '_Goodnight to you too, Santana. I'd take in great consideration if your dreams were actually centered on me, since mine will be definitely on you._'

Her mouth widening at the end of the sentence, the tan girl's eyes glowed with mirth at the obvious display of affection present in their texts.

Looking one last time at the messages Rachel had sent her, Santana put her phone on her bedside table and turned the lights off; the smile never leaving her face.

And trying with all of her might to not burst into tears at the thought of what Rachel was possibly going through on her own.


	10. Dark Clouds

** DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee**

**Well, here it is. Fluff before angst. Oops...I did it again lol**

**Thanks for the motivation, K ;)**

**Sorry for any mistakes and all that stuff. I'll try to update sooner to make up for...this. **

**Enjoy and review! :D**

* * *

Santana woke up on Friday with a smile on her face. She couldn't remember why, but as the memories of the day before came reeling back into her mind, the smile started to widen progressively. She had had the best day ever. Since the moment she saw Rachel, at least.

The moment holding each other that they had spent in the Cheerios locker room had been precious. The feeling of warm perfection she had experimented when she threw her arms around the tiny teenager had been magical. And their make out session had been passionate, breath taking.

She had explored Rachel, she had held her against her, had breathed her in. In a few days, they had built a connection that exceeded any limits. And she was decided to fight for that bond, to not let it slide through her fingers even if Rachel tried to do the exact opposite.

Even if the tiny, precious, brunette ball of perfection kept trying to push her away.

Because there wasn't reason good enough in the entire fucking world that could push her away from _her_ Rachel. She had grown attached to her, and her mind couldn't process an idea or a thought in which Rachel was not involved.

Sighing, Santana sat up and turned her body until her legs were hanging off the bed; stretching her arms and back. Running a hand through her messy hair, Santana blinked a few times and got on her feet, frowning when she didn't see sunlight blasting through her window. The Cheerio neared the window until she was standing in front of it, and was greeted by an enormous mass of grey and black clouds, darkening the, otherwise, bright day. It was a miracle that it hadn't started pouring with rain yet.

Shaking her head, the Latina tapped her window twice and turned around, ready to start her morning tasks (AKA: making her bed, brushing her teeth, pulling her hair into a ponytail and putting her Cheerios' uniform on), when a startling realization paralyzed her muscles and froze her brain for a second.

The window.

The day before Santana and Rachel had made out against her car.

The lady that had been looking at them through her window.

Oh god. She had completely forgotten about that. That woman had seen them. Kissing. In front of Rachel's house.

In some way, it almost felt as if the adrenaline from the day before had stifled her reaction, because definitely, the day before her legs hadn't trembled so much, nor her bottom lip had started quivering lightly. Her eyes wide, Santana covered her mouth with her hand, moving jerkily to the bed to sit down, not being able to stay on her feet anymore.

Rachel's neighbor had seen them. She could have told the girl's parents anytime. _Fuck_.

Well, the day before when she had texted Rachel, the girl didn't look distressed or hurt in anyway. And there hadn't been a car on the driveway when she carried her home that evening.

Maybe they didn't know yet.

Or maybe they had arrived later that night, and knew everything.

Starting to hyperventilate, the Hispanic girl tried to take over her emotions and ran to her phone, which was resting on her nightstand where she had left it the night before, and started typing furiously.

_Rachl aer you ok?_

Not giving a flying damn about proper spelling, the Latina awaited anxiously for her phone's screen to brighten up. She didn't even care that she was going to be late for class anymore.

Her left leg started bouncing nervously up and down, making her hand move in turn. Finally, three minutes of _sheer _torture later, her phone lit up.

Clumsily hitting unnecessary buttons and touching useless parts of the screen, the message popped up.

_Good morning to you too, Santana. I see myself forced to ask; why would you send such a confusing and rushed text message? And to answer your question, yes, I'm perfectly fine :)_

The raven haired girl couldn't help the relieved laughter that came out of her lips, even as her eyes watered in momentarily happiness. Rachel was fine. So that meant that that lady had either not told anything or Rachel's parents didn't give a fuck about who their daughter was kissing and were.

_Or maybe she hasn't said anything._

Obviously, only the first reason was the only one that managed to enter the Latina's line of logic, since the second one could be excluded at any time. And she didn't believe in the third. She really didn't.

Falling back to her bed, Santana threw her cell phone by her side and covered her face with her hands, a relieved sigh escaping her lips.

* * *

The halls were full with people sporting raincoats and umbrellas. The annoying noises coming from the plastic and rubber soles sliding against the linoleum floor filled the corridors, the happy chatter and banter going on and on; the main topic being the random weather.

However, Santana wasn't paying attention to any of that. She was too concentrated on stalking the doors, waiting for the little frame of the beautiful brunette she couldn't stop thinking about to appear.

Brittany was singing two lockers away with an excited looking Tina Cohen-Chang, tapping her fingers against the locker to create a rhythm.

Smiling at the sight of her best friend, Santana turned her head, watching out for one Quinn Fabray who was walking down the hallway with two Cheerios in tow. Not even sparing a glance her way, Quinn passed by.

Santana followed her movement out of the corner of her eye, ready for anything the blonde could decide to do at her back, but let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief when the girl just ignored her.

She shouldn't feel that way; they had been friends for the longest of times, with her she had shared her deepest secrets. And now, watching her, covering her back just so that the tall girl wouldn't stab her hurt more than she could have ever imagined.

However, she was completely pulled out of her thoughts when she heard splashing and laughter. The Latina frowned and closed her locker, quickly gathering her books in her arms and taking off towards the scene of the crime, just praying in her head for the victim to not be Rachel. Pushing and elbowing her way through the students, Santana's eyes hardened and softened at the same time at the sight before her.

There was Rachel, for the first time in days, covered in blue slushy, trembling in the middle of the circle the students had made around her. Santana got to the last row of laughing students and roughly shoved her stack of books into someone's chest, making the air inside their lungs get out in a sudden puff. Stepping up until she was two feet away from the brunette, Santana turned her body to the students, her eyes bulging out of her head and the veins of her neck pulsing dangerously.

"MOVE IT!" Barked the cheerleader signaling the other end of the hallway.

A few people squirmed uncomfortably, but didn't move. If everyone else could affront the former HBIC, they could too.

"WASN'T I FUCKING CLEAR ENOUGH? GET OUT OF MY FUCKING SIGHT, YOU STUPID MOUTHBREATHERS!" Shouted Santana, feeling the saliva escaping her mouth with the effort of her order.

At this, every last shred of courage left in the student body evaporated instantly, leaving the hall void of sheep.

_Riiiiiiiiiiing._

Just in time to start their classes. The scared boy who had been handed Santana's books looked anxiously from the Latina to the end of the hallway, finally dropping them to the floor and running in the opposite direction.

Surprisingly, Rachel nor Santana couldn't bring themselves to care in that moment. Probably, they hadn't even heard the annoying sound.

They were just worried about each other.

Before the Latina turned her head towards Rachel, the smaller girl was afraid of what she would see.

It had been her fault. She had blown their cover. Santana had seen herself forced to defend Rachel. She had had to confront everyone else just to protect her. What if Santana hated her? She wouldn't be able to stand it if Santana hated her. She simply wouldn't. She couldn't bear to see the hatred, the deception in those eyes she had grown to adore.

But, when Santana actually turned her body to face Rachel's, the sight before her couldn't be further from her assumptions.

The tall girl approached her slowly, as if fearing that any harsh moves would scare the petite Jewish girl off. _As if that were possible._

Her eyes weren't filled with tears, but her expression of pain and worry broke Rachel's heart nonetheless.

There was something so _right_ but so _wrong_ about that moment.

Rachel had been thrown a _slushy_, an artificially colored frozen beverage. It had obviously been extremely _humiliating_, but, to be honest, it had been nothing else. Not painful –not much, anyway –, not personal. Just a slushy.

Still, if felt almost as if Santana thought that Rachel had been submitted to the worst of punishments. As if it had been her fault that Rachel had ended up soaked and humiliated. Her eyes showed so much care and regret, and-

_Oh._

Rachel's brain shut immediately off when Santana covered her stained cheeks with her hands and leaned in to press her lips against her own. The small girl closed her eyes immediately, enjoying the sugar flavored kiss as much as she could with her arms between her and Santana to prevent the other girl from getting her pristine uniform stained. Her attempts were futile when, after a bit of struggle, Santana managed to remove one of Rachel's arms from its squished position in between the two of them and put it on her shoulder, sliding her own arm around the girl's torso just under her armpit, so that they were tightly pressed together.

The sticky substance was disgustingly smooth and thick on her skin, and she knew it was sticking to Santana's too, but she didn't care anymore – neither did the Latina - once the Cheerio tilted her head away from her, just to look right into her eyes, and whispered 'I'm so sorry for everything I ever did to you'. The girl managed to burn that sentence in Rachel's mind forever, even though she had sniffled twice during that statement.

When had they started crying?

_Oh, _mussed the brown haired girl, _this couldn't happen without tears. How cliché of me._

Shaking her head, Rachel said nothing; just stared back into those almost black pools and moved her hand up, so that she could wipe some tears away from caramel skin.

Leaning into the touch, Santana smiled lightly and grabbed the hand petting her cheek, sliding it down until she was able to intertwine their fingers. Tugging slightly at the hand, Santana signaled the closest toilets with her head.

"We should probably get cleaned up" rasped the senior, trying to squish some strands of Rachel's hair to remove the slushy from it, and laughing when the other girl huffed indignantly and sticked her bottom lip out in a cute pout.

Smiling all the way, both girls entered the empty bathroom. Closing the door behind them, Santana let her eyes roam the entire length of Rachel's petite body, gauging the amount of slushy they would have to clean off. That was _one_ of the reasons, at least.

Situating herself behind the Jewish girl, the caramel skinned Cheerio put her hands on Rachel's hips while she pressed wet paper towels to her face, making her blush a lovely shade of pink. Catching it on her reflection, Santana cracked a little smile and squeezed her hips lightly.

A comfortable silence followed; only broken by the wet sounds the paper made whet it met skin. Santana stood in the same position, behind Rachel, watching her every movement with rapt attention. The way her fingers adjusted to the morphing paper, how she closed her eyes softly each time her eyelashes felt a little bit sticky, how she jutted her chin out to clean the underside of her face and most part of her neck.

She felt like a protector, like a guardian angel in that position. _A fucking badass guardian angel. With a couple guns, possibly. _Standing behind her, watching her face appear above Rachel's on the reflection, made her feel the huge gap that there was between them, and that she was going to overcome. _They _were going to overcome. Together, were Rachel to agree or not.

But it also made her feel powerful; like she could be by her side; made her think about protecting Rachel, about how she wished she could stay with her every moment of every day; face the two assholes that passed for her parents and gather her in her arms, forever.

And it was stupid, because she was just standing behind Rachel, and it was only a reflection.

"Aren't you going to clean up?" asked the petite brunette, snapping Santana out of her reverie. Looking at her with a confused expression on her face, Rachel chuckled softly and repeated the question.

"Oh, yeah, whatever. I just got distracted." Was the answer given by the cheerleader as she moved to the petite girl's side to start removing the colorful substance from her face.

Smiling, Rachel looked up at Santana pointedly, the other girl pretending to be too busy removing the remnants of slushy from her already immaculate face. After a few moments of almost nothing for her part, Santana finally rolled her eyes, although the smile on her lips gave her fake frustration away.

"What now" sighed a playfully annoyed Santana.

"You know what." Answered coyly Rachel, finishing her sentence with a well placed pout. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Santana watched the display of immaturity with amusement, the throbbing little thing on her chest starting to move faster, like the beat of some disco song.

Finally turning her head to properly look at Rachel in the eye, Santana stared at her for a long while; Rachel not backing down even one bit. After a couple minutes, the taller girl's gaze softened, and reaching out a hand to tuck a wet strand of hair behind her girl's ear, Santana answered.

"You're breathtaking, Rach."

What had started as playful banter had ended as a clear declaration of honesty, of vulnerability. Her smile faltering, Rachel neared Santana even more, until the tips of their feet were touching. The smaller girl tilted her head up, but only managed to reach Santana's lower chin. Her eyes shining from emotion, Rachel searched blindly for the Latina's hand, and once she found it, she intertwined their fingers.

Getting on her tiptoes, Rachel managed to place a small, loving kiss on Santana's chin; the small gesture being enough for the Latina to close her eyes; the feeling rushing through her veins being too much to handle.

"I mean it" whispered the tanner girl against smooth, brown hair.

After a few moments, "I know you do."


	11. I saw you

**DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Glee**

**Here's next chapter! Hope you enjoy! If you review...I will love you so much *-***

* * *

First three periods went by quickly. Rachel hadn't had to suffer any more encounters with Cheerios or jocks. This surprised her, since Santana hadn't been able to take her to any of her classes due to their extremely different schedules.

Each hour, the tall girl sent the tiny brunette a text asking where she was and if she was ok. And, honestly, the small girl was fine with all that coddling. No, scratch that. She was blown away by it. She wasn't able to remember the last time someone had showed so much care for her, and she loved every second of it; even if it made her sound and feel a little bit selfish from time to time.

She could live with that.

Rummaging silently into her locker, Rachel tried to avoid as much attention as possible after that morning's incident. She didn't like being in the spotlight in a situation like that one.

Suddenly, two warm hands came out of nowhere and gently covered her eyes, making her breath hitch for just a second before a soft and raspy "Hi" made its way to her ears. Her 'o' shaped mouth slowly started morphing into a blinding smile, her hands coming up to take Santana's softly away from her eyes. Bowing her head, Rachel turned around just to lift her face a second later, letting the bottom lip that was being _deliciously_ bitten on display.

"Hi."

Smiling like a fool, the Latina raised one hand to Rachel's face, softly caressing her cheekbone with her thumb, before she slowly leant forward and placed a soft kiss on the younger girl's forehead. When she tilted back, Rachel's smile had dimmed the tiniest bit, her eyes sparkling with undeniable affection.

Santana felt her throat dry in an instant, her eyes captivated by the beauty in front of her. Rachel's cheeks had turned a lovely shade of pink, and her long eyelashes had started fluttering madly in an innocent show of _almost _seduction.

However, her act dropped completely once she felt more than heard the soft murmurs and incredulous comments coming from everywhere around them. Her eyes moved nervously from left to right, trying to gauge how many humiliation she would have to cope with that day.

Santana followed the girl's gaze, and frowned when she finally noticed the little groups which had been starting to form for the entirety of the encounter; undoubtedly gossiping about them. Sensing Rachel's discomfort, Santana clenched her jaw, and shooting one last murderous glare to a giggling group of sophomores whose faces instantly turned into ones of almost terror and panic, she took Rachel's lunch – which consisted of a banana -, allowing her to close her locker before they took off towards the auditorium, hand in hand.

They weren't faced with any incidents on their way to the auditorium – weird looks aside -, and both of them were relieved thankful for that little improvement.

When they finally arrived to the enormous room, Santana opened the door for Rachel, making her blush and Santana grin and roll her eyes at the same time, trying to not show the reaction Rachel's adorableness produced on her.

_Not too much, anyway._

Once the door closed behind them, both girls felt a sheet of complete darkness fall over them. Giggling like an idiot, Santana extracted her cell phone from the waistband of her Cheerio's skirt and projected a tiny ray of light into the room. Holding her hand tightly – Santana knew that it wasn't out of _fear_ –, Rachel tugged at the other brunette's hand, pulling her to the nearest row of seats.

Santana sat down first, her phone shining in one hand; and before Rachel could sit down too, the Latina pulled hard at their joined hands on the opposite direction than the move should have been, making the Jewish girl fall on her lap with a surprised squeal.

Santana's head was thrown back in laughter, while Rachel was currently in the middle of an amusing and childish show of indignation with her bottom lip sticking out, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed along her chest; unable to move due to the tight grip Santana had around her waist.

After a couple minutes in which the raven haired girl recovered from her laughing fit, the tall girl unlocked her phone once again, lighting up the nearest space to them. Inspecting the other face, her wide smile turned into a closed mouth grin, her eyes shining with affection towards the small girl on her lap.

Rocking her lightly from side to side, the Latina frowned playfully when Rachel didn't react. Her phone's screen was upwards, bathing Rachel's face in a beautiful shade of white and blue, her features sharpener and edgier than they really were.

Mesmerized for a moment, Santana was pulled out of her reverie by something Rachel had murmured under her breath.

"What was that?" inquired the girl with an amused smile, not having heard clearly what Rachel had said. Apparently, it had been the wrong move, because Rachel's brow crinkled even more, and-

_Fucking phone._

Oh, right. Light again. There was a cute little frown etched upon her features, and her eyes refused to move on her general direction.

"Oh, I see. You won't tell me." Playfully sing sang the taller girl, her fingers starting to stroke up and down the brunette's sides, eliciting a barely covered smile to blossom up on the beautiful Jewish woman on her lap. The more annoyed she wanted to look, the cuter she _actually _looked.

The thing went on for a minute or so, until, _fucking finally, _Rachel couldn't resist the touches anymore and doubled over in a fit of giggles, squishing Santana's phone and her lunch between them. The other girl just held her tightly, a pleased smirk on her face. She really loved those moments in which Rachel would let go of herself, would let herself act _her _age.

"I said you are mean" casually came the answer Santana had been looking for in the first place. The girl blinked a few times; she had forgotten what the question had been.

"Uuh?" Asked the Cheerio, earning herself a playful elbow to her ribs.

"See? You are mean." Pouted once again the brunette. Shaking her head to prevent a fit of laughter yet again, Santana buried her nose on the side of Rachel's neck, breathing in deeply and relishing on the sweet smell of the girl's silky locks.

Purring lightly, she felt her hands start moving on their own; her phone long ago forgotten on the Jewish brunette's skirt clad thighs. They danced along her sides, reaching the point where her shirt was tucked under her skirt and back up again, until she was able to feel the slight protuberance of a bra under her fingertips. Her mouth had opened, leaving wet small kissed all along the right side of Rachel's neck.

She didn't dare leaving a mark.

A couple of minutes tickled by, and it was enough for Rachel to have thrown her head back to rest on the other girl's left shoulder and her hands to have topped those of Santana, slowing down her movements but following the same pattern they originally did. The small kisses had evolved in little bites and sensual licks, always careful to not stay too much time in one specific part; to not provide too much pressure.

"Uugh… San, I'm-" started the girl with a strangled whimper, her nails almost clawing at the skin beneath her fingers.

"Yeah baby, I'm sorry." Was the answer she felt mumbled against her ear at the same time she felt her – _lover_'s? – hands stop roaming her torso.

Her breath hitched, and her smile could have been spotted from a thousand miles away – if there had been any source of light in the auditorium, that's it.

"I was just going to say that I was hungry."

Rachel could feel the Latina smile against her cheek, and wondered if she would be able to tell the heavy blush that had fallen over her face with just the touch of her lips.

She thought so.

She hoped not.

"But?" Murmured the Cheerio in answer, not bothering to turn her phone on again, while she turned her head to the right, so that her cheek was pressed up against Rachel's.

After a second of hesitance, Rachel closed her eyes – an unnecessary task; there was _nothing _to be seen – and inhaled deeply, the corners of her lips turning up.

"Could you repeat it?" It had been so small and timid that the other girl would have missed it in any other circumstances, but not _now. _Not _there, _with _her._

She wasn't being specific, and it could have been _anything. _But Santana knew exactly what Rachel was referring to.

Lifting one hand to softly move the hair away from Rachel's right ear, Santana breathed dramatically into the ear before a husky "_Baby_" escaped her lips purposefully, feeling the little girl's stomach surrounded by her other arm constrict in something that, to the Latina, looked a lot like _pleasure_.

The level of intimacy should have been a little overwhelming for Rachel, because they were two people who had already shared too _much_ with each other, pressed up one against the other, in a tight and personal embrace. The smaller brunette – the two of them, really – could almost feel the aura of sexual tension floating around them, dying to get a hold of them. And, for Rachel it meant something beyond what was happening in that moment in the arms of _her _Santana.

All her life she had been moving from house to house, meeting strange people who were supposed to take care of her, to be her _new _family. She had never been given the opportunity to build any kind of bond with anyone; she had never felt a force pulling her near another person.

She had never been this close; felt this connected to anyone.

But Santana had swept in like a knight in shining armor and had made her realize that she was able to _feel _things; she had taken her time to get to know her – the girl had had to shush the laughing voice within her head that shouted '_Do you really think she _knows _you, princess?_' –, and it had meant the world to Rachel.

It had made something click inside her; something she didn't even know existed.

So, no, in that moment, resting her head against the side of Santana's with her arms tightly wrapped around her midsection, she didn't feel overwhelmed in the slightest.

"Weren't you hungry two minutes ago?" grumbled the Latina, unlocking her phone once again to allow Rachel to take her banana. Opening her eyes, the smaller brunette blinked a few times to adequate her vision to the poorly lightened space and straightened up a little on the other girl's lap.

"Mmm, yeah." Came the groggy answer, making it seem like she had just waken up. "Thank you for reminding me." Continued the small girl, flashing Santana a toothy grin in thanks. "You aren't hungry?"

Smiling at the sheer cuteness of the action, Santana shook her head, and kept her phone on as Rachel carefully peeled the banana's skin off and started eating it.

The taller girl followed her every motion with rapt attention as her lips moved in sync with the other girl's, the incredible hotness of the act being too much for her to handle quietly.

"Damn baby" murmured the Cheerio, moving her phone so that the light would hit Rachel's mouth directly. "That's so fucking _hot_." She continued, as she squeezed the girl's stomach with her arm.

The other girl, for her part, started coughing profusely when she choked on a piece of the banana – not knowing with exactitude if it had been due to Santana's words or the subsequent squeeze of her stomach. Laughing like a mad woman, Santana started patting Rachel's upper back with her hand, shushing her softly.

When Rachel finally recovered, she turned her face to Santana's, who didn't see her reaction until she moved the phone once again.

"That was definitely _not _nice, Santana Lopez!" Stage whispered Rachel as if someone could hear in her voice the wrongness of the action, her head emphasizing every single word.

"Oh, but it _was, _dear Rachel. It definitely was." Argued Santana with a smirk before reaching with her hand and taking a spare piece of banana with her thumb off the corner of the petite brunette's mouth.

"You're incorrigible. Now I don't want the banana anymore." Stated Rachel with a pout, her amusement showing through her white and blue tinted brown orbs. Santana just shrugged, and casually eyed the neglected banana in Rachel's hand.

"You know," she started in a plotting tone, "maybe, that banana came from one of the best harvests in Spain. Maybe, some old and nice farmer took his time watering the tree; fertilizing the earth appropriately; maybe he poured all his love into that single banana, thinking about a nice and beautiful little girl who would eat it in the future. And, maybe, his love got into that banana for you to enjoy it."

Santana tilted her face to the left, facing Rachel's cheek. The girl had a pensive expression; her brow furrowed and her lips in a tight line as she observed the banana in her hand.

"Maybe I should eat it. Just, you know, in case." Murmured finally the girl.

Santana nodded her head against Rachel's cheek, biting the inside of it to prevent the fit of laughter bubbling in her chest to escape from her lips.

"I don't believe a word of what you just told me" clarified Rachel with a roll of her eyes, obviously annoyed that Santana had thought that such a childish tale would be believed and accepted by her brilliant mind. "You just softened my heart. That's all" sighed the petite girl dramatically before leading the banana to her mouth once more.

Two minutes later, Rachel had already finished munching the '_damn plátano_', as Santana put it, and the smaller girl was relaxed once again, with her back tightly pressed to Santana's front.

"How much time do we have left?" murmured Rachel, not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment. Groaning when she raised her hand, Santana unlocked her phone, eyeing it for a second before locking it again.

"Five minutes." Was the disheartening answer. After those five minutes, they would have to go their separate ways for the rest of the day.

A comfortable silence fell over them once again, the only thing breaking the perfection of the moment being the prospect of the end of lunch period.

"This was the first place where you noticed me."

The silence hadn't been broken; it had just been _changed_. Santana's eyes opened at the words; not caring that it was a useless action.

Tilting her head to the left, she let her breath hit Rachel's temple for a moment before she bowed her head and placed a small kiss to her cheek.

And another. And another. Rachel tilted her head upwards and to the right, allowing her lips to meet with the Cheerio's, who in turn cupped her jaw softly as she explored the girl's lips. First her top lip, then her fuller, plumper bottom one, her tongue making stroking motions against it as she felt herself being sucked within Rachel; all the way to her heart.

When she forced herself to pull back, her lips were glistening with _Rachel, _and she softly sucked them into her mouth, not letting anything related to her girl go away;_ wasted_.

"You're _wrong._" Sighed the Latina against the other pair of wet lips. There wasn't almost time for any of this; for confessions, for more vulnerability. There was a big chance of them not being able to build their walls back up before they were forced to face the world.

But Santana knew that Rachel was bigger than that.

"This was the first place where _you_ _made me see_."

The confession was sealed with a soft kiss, just as the bell rang.

* * *

Santana hurried out of her last of the day, wanting to arrive to her locker and to _her _as fast as possible, still not trusting the suspicious truce the Cheerios and jocks – and, well, the whole population of McKinley – were providing Rachel.

Once she left her books in the standard locker and filled her bag with the necessary ones, the girl took off to where she knew Rachel's was. Effectively, there was the petite brunette, doing the same task she had been going through mere seconds ago, but the Jewish girl looked over her shoulder nervously – and probably trying and failing to be subtle - each five seconds, always alert.

At this, a sad smile drew itself on Santana's face as she approached the girl, who spotted her before she reached her. A smile appearing on her own face, Rachel closed her locker and waited timidly in front of it for Santana to meet her with her folder clutched protectively to her chest.

"Hi" breathed out the Cheerio, repeating the lunchtime actions.

Rachel just stared at her, her face set in the dreamiest expression she had ever seen the girl use. That was the best greeting she could have gotten.

Her smile widening, Santana simply took Rachel's hand and guided her through the almost empty halls, and to the school's entrance. Their bubble of peacefulness and perfection from lunch period was surrounding them once again as they walked to Santana's car.

"Well, I should go." Blop. The bubble exploded.

"What?" Inquired an extremely confused looking Santana. Honestly, she thought that after the day events Rachel would trust her more than the day before. It seemed like she was wrong, though. "You're not coming with me?"

"You can't carry me home today, Santana." Explained softly the smaller girl, her voice getting smaller and smaller with every second she spent looking at Santana's pained black orbs.

"Is there a fucking reason why-?"

"Please." Begged the brunette, not wanting the perfection to end; the memory to be destroyed, just _yet._

Santana tilted her head back, inhaling deeply with her eyes tightly closed; before she snapped them open and tilted her hear forward to its original position.

"I just want a reason." Said the Latina seriously in a tone that was painfully close to _begging. _Rachel just stared helplessly into those chocolate pools, feeling her shoulders dropping with each second that passed. Santana's eyes were so pleading, so filled with _hurt _and _hope _that she could do nothing aside from closing her eyes and softly nodding her head.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Rachel avoided eye contact as she murmured a soft "Okay".

Santana's pleading face contorted almost instantly into one of plain, sheer happiness.

"Oh baby, thank you." Managed to murmur the girl before her hands were cupping Rachel's face and her lips were molding to Rachel's. The other girl could just kiss back, some of the desperation from before sagging her shoulders; just praying for everything to be okay.

Santana leaned back, and the smile she was sporting could compete with a little boy's on Christmas day. Rachel felt her lips curling lightly up in a sincere smile, loving the emotion pouring from Santana's eyes, as if she had done something, when in reality she had just accepted a ride back home.

_Just a ride back home, right princess?_

There was a reason she had accepted. Santana was the best thing that had happened to her, and she knew that she just wanted to protect her. And, even though she hadn't wanted Santana to accompany her to avoid problems, she wouldn't have been able to just walk away, knowing that Santana was left behind, with so much hurt in her eyes and uncertainty in her heart.

Even over such a stupid almost-argument, because she knew that for Santana it was so much more than a simple ride home.

It was trust.

So she just sucked it up and got in the car. It was better than having to tell Santana about things she wasn't _ready _to tell. Not yet, probably not _ever._

The drive was eerily silent. No voice was heard; no indications were given. Rachel could almost feel her heart trying to literally cave a hole on her chest and break free, looking as subtly as she was able to through the window, praying for any god that would listen to her that no one was home.

When Santana got to her street, the lump on her throat had gotten almost unbearably thick. She felt the urge to just ask Santana to stop there, at the beginning of the street, but she didn't want another argument; she didn't want to lose those precious points she had been getting during the whole drive.

Once her house was close enough to inspect, the brunette almost cried out in relief when she didn't see a car waiting menacingly on the driveway.

Little did she know that Santana was having a similar thought; but with her neighbor's driveway instead.

Once they stopped at the same stop they did the first time, Rachel grabbed the door handle and pulled at it, her eyes widening when the door didn't move even the slightest bit.

Smiling amusedly from her position at the driver's seat, Santana rolled her eyes lightly. "I told you, you can't open that door from inside" she teased while she opened her own door, just to walk around the front of the car and open Rachel's door.

The girl, for her part, just smiled tightly and hastily got off the car, pretending to be more relaxed than she really was.

"See? It wasn't that bad, now, was it?" Inquired the Hispanic Cheerio with a mock smirk on her face; a playful seductive look on her eyes.

Rachel just smiled in response, her hands sweating against the straps of her bag. Nodding her head, the tiny brunette looked nervously at the end of the street, and when she didn't see a car coming, she quickly got on her tip toes and delivered a peck to Santana's lips. Coming back to her original height, she moved away from the Latina and started walking towards the front door of the white colored house, when a strong hand spun her gently around by her arm and Santana attacked her lips with her own.

The strong arms of the cheerleader wrapped themselves tightly around the tiny girl, obscuring her view of the rest of the world while her mouth _devoured_ Rachel's. She just wanted to feel close to her before she had to go.

Rachel kissed back. It was a stupid thing to do, really. She was under pressure; she knew that, at any moment, their bubble could be burst forever. But the passion pouring from Santana's mouth didn't seem like a _bye_ to her, so she just reciprocated, basking on the feeling of being _wanted; _being _desired _for once in her life. And by the person she desired back.

Their breaths were irregular, and they both would have to stop at any moment. They just didn't expect how.

A car was suddenly heard maneuvering into Rachel's driveway. Both girls parted as they saw in horror a blonde woman not bothering to even park adequately get out of the car and barrel towards them, her face set in the most feral face any of them had ever seen.

Santana was paralyzed. She didn't know who that woman was, nor if she was related to Rachel in any way. The only thing she was able to absorb in that moment was the look of utter panic on Rachel's face.

"Rachel!" The voice boomed all around the two teenagers, the woman almost having reached them. The girl, for her part, lifted her gaze for a fleeting second, meeting Santana's eyes with her own, letting her know that, _please, don't do anything._

But Santana could only hear a scared fifteen year old girl asking for help; sobbing in her arms in desperation and sorrow.

As the woman took a hold of Rachel's arm and spun her around with a "_What the fuck were you fucking thinking_", Santana swept into action, moving quickly to intercept the two women. Her face looked determined, though her mind was gasping for air.

The blonde seething animal tightened her grip on Rachel's arm and looked back for a moment, gauging if someone was watching them; or simply passing by.

Santana met Rachel's quickly watering eyes at not having paid attention, afraid of what the consequences would be for her. The situation was bad enough as it was. She could barely get the air to enter and get out of her lungs, a ball of tears and fear etched deep in her throat; a begging sound escaping her lips.

"Santana…" the pleading edge of the simple word broke Santana's heart, who in an instant and without thinking leapt forward and, with an animalistic growl, ripped the woman's hand off Rachel's upper arm. She pulled at Rachel's hand, but she simply stayed where she was, a defeated expression marring her features. Santana looked back at Rachel in surprise, and her face turned into one of fear once again when the woman took a hold of Rachel's arm and pulled her towards the front door.

"Who the fuck are you!" bellowed the Cheerio, saliva escaping her mouth as she ran to Rachel once more, stopping in front of her and reaching out to cup her face.

But, instead of being met with Rachel's soft skin, a hand shot out and slapped hers. Hard. She met the blonde's eyes, and saw a confusion of emotions in them.

"Who the fuck do you think _you _are!" Shouted the woman in return.

Rachel stood in the middle, her eyes downcast as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. Sniffling soundly, she turned her body to Amy and looked up at her conflicted eyes. Her eyes widening when she saw her other hand turning into a fist, Rachel finally reacted.

"Amy, please, let her go. She doesn't know-"

"Don't fucking tell me what to do!" Yelled Amy, still looking at Santana, who had just…deflated. Her eyes were fixated to the back of the brunette's head, her fist clenched to prevent the wave of sobs that were begging to break free to do so, and her jaw tightly squared.

She was aware, now, of the consequences of her acts. If she messed up some more, it would be Rachel who would pay.

And she would already have to pay enough on her behalf.

So, fighting against her will, her heart breaking every fucking single minute of it, the Latina reached out a hand to take Rachel's for a moment. She simply squeezed it; a meaningless action for the woman, but a promise for the other two.

Her vision was blurry when she let go of the delicate hand, but when she lifted her eyes to watch her Rachel get into the house, she could have swore that the woman had a glint of something akin of…understanding, _sympathy_ on her eye. Rachel quickly turned her head, and her tear stained face made Santana's heart – what was left of it – shatter to the ground, breaking in a million, tiny, meaningless pieces.

Every little crack had hurt like a bitch.

The door had already closed, but Santana still stood there. Paralyzed. Her hand still tingling from the last squeeze of reassurance she had given Rachel. After a couple minutes, she felt herself doubling over in pain, clutching her stomach tightly.

_This can't be happening._

_This can't be fucking happening._

_What the fuck did just happen._

_Rachel…_

_Oh god._

As the last events caught up with her, Santana felt a dull pain on her naked knees when they hit the hard pavement below her. Not even her hands covering her face could do anything against the anguished wail that escaped her mouth, and her heart.


End file.
